#I can’t help it i just sink lower and lower the more time I spend in a sitting position

[harmonyrae]

A Christmas Kiss

Merry Christmas! This is the SFW lots of fluff version, I am tempted to spend my Christmas writing the NSFW version LOL

Synopsis: Sylus told you he never celebrated Christmas, it was never a big deal. But Christmas holds a special place in your heart. Maybe you can convince him?

“Luke, be careful!”

Just as you utter the words you hear something shatter. You close your eyes and try to steady your breathing. You pray whatever Luke just broke can be fixed or easily replaced. You hold your breath as you bring the last box into Sylus’s office. 

“Uhhh… Something may be broken.” 

Luke stands over the box, his hand kneading the back of his neck. Kieran kneels by the box and gently opens it. He pulls out a clear crystal wing.

“You didn’t have an attachment to the angel tree topper, did you?” 

You sink into the sofa and cover your face with your hands. Worst case scenario. That was the one thing you were excited to show Sylus. You knew he wasn’t big on Christmas, but priceless antiques? He would appreciate that. It was a gift from your grandmother when you moved into your first apartment on your own. 

You held your breath to try and stop the sob threatening to escape. You feel the sofa sink next to you. You finally pull your hands away and see Kieran has sat beside you. He gives you a gentle side hug.

“Luke will fix it. Right Luke?” Even with his mask on, you can tell Kieran gives his brother an intense glare. You can’t help but let out a tiny chuckle.  

“Uhm… yes. I’ll go find the hot glue gun. It’ll be good as new, promise!” Luke picks up the box and hurries out of the room.

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t make it worse. Sorry Ms. Hunter.” Kieran gets up and heads to the door.

“Thanks.” 

You can’t hide the sadness in your voice. You hear the door close and rub your hands together. Why is Sylus’s office so cold all the time when he has a fireplace?

You stand and approach the fireplace to toss in a few pieces of wood. Taking the matchbook from the mantle you light the kindling and watch the fire to flicker to life. As the warmth washes over your face and you finally feel yourself smile. You still have a lot of work to do and plenty of decorations that are not broken. Sylus will be back in a few hours and you want his office to look like Christmas threw up all over it. It’s time to get to work. 

You approach Sylus’s gramophone. You always found it funny how Sylus had such an old school record player, but the look he gave you when you suggested an upgrade told you it meant more to him than you realized. You pull out the Christmas Classics vinyl from one of the boxes. While you knew you should wrap it, you couldn’t let this particular present for Sylus go to waste. You place the vinyl on the turntable and gently lower the needle. The soft melody of White Christmas floats through the room and you shiver with excitement. 

Over the next two hours you carefully move folders and trinkets aside to make room for snow globes and tiny nutcrackers. You can’t help but giggle at the nutcracker you made just for Sylus. Tara dragged you to a Christmas crafting class and was teasing you the whole time as you struggled with the sheer red tool and ruby sequins. 

The nutcracker has white hair, red sequin eyes, a black suit with swirls of red. Of course, you had to include Mephisto somehow. Fortunately, someone in the class had a shifting evol and helped you shape the helmet to look like a crow. More red sequins and some silver and red glitter made Mephisto shine. You chose the nutcracker with the bent arm so you could wrap the sheer red tool around its hand to symbolize his evol. 

After the class, you were inspired to make more Sylus inspired Christmas decorations. But you also wanted to use some of your classic Christmas decorations too. You spent an hour packing some of your favorites before heading to the shop to buy some supplies for your crafting projects. 

The snow globe was filled with soft white snow and a replica of the pouch you made for him during your impromptu adventure to the grasslands. There were five stockings on the fireplace mantle. Sylus’s name in bold black letters against the bright red fabric with little crow pendants sewn in. Yours with bold purple letters and the plushie pins you won at the arcade over the summer. Luke and Kieran had stockings as well, but when you had told them your plans they begged to decorate their own. Luke went with pink letters and polar bear pins while Kieran went with blue letters and reindeer pins. You hoped they’d be put up every year, starting, hopefully, one of many traditions for the little family you’ve made here in the N109 Zone. The last stocking was a baby stocking with a single black crow painted on the baby blue fabric. Mephisto, once again, would be thrilled. 

The mantle was also adorned with garland wrapped with soft white lights, red candles in crystal Santa candle holders. The Christmas tree was delivered right on time and you made sure to take extra precautions to avoid the base leaking after watering. Sylus once told you the carpets in his office were handmade - you were not risking ruining those. It was a challenge to hang the lights and red and silver ornaments on your own, with the tree being over 10 feet tall, but you wanted it to tower over Sylus. Thankfully Luke and Kieran agreed to let you finish decorating alone after the angel mishap and found a stepladder. Luke was still trying to fix the angel, but you could tell it wasn’t going well from the updates Kieran was giving you. 

You hung the wreath made of dark red Poinsettias above his desk. Twinkle lights framed the bookshelves. Fuzzy Christmas blankets and pillows lining the couches and chairs. You sat on the couch admiring your work before looking through the box at your feet for any final additions. Sylus would be home any minute and you wanted to change into a Christmas sweater and be in the kitchen baking cookies when he arrived. You found a small box with a few floral pieces. One stuck out to you, it was a cluster of mistletoe. 

You wouldn’t need that. Or… maybe… You had been dating Sylus for a few months now, and while you were relieved he was taking things slowly, you were also wondering when he’d take the next step. Or was he waiting for you to take the next step? You were anxious and didn’t want to ruin anything. But this was your first holiday season together and maybe this was the perfect time to take that step. Staring down at the mistletoe in your hand, you square your shoulders and rise to your feet. 

You drag the stepladder to the door of his office, you confidently climb the steps and stretch your arm up to secure the mistletoe to the frame. Just as the mistletoe is secured, you hear it, the doorknob jiggles and you don’t have time to react before the door swings open. The stepladder tips and you feel yourself fall. But you’re only airborne for a moment before you land in someone’s arms. Sylus cradles you to his chest, the look of surprise on his face almost makes you laugh. You’ve never seen him caught off guard before. 

“What a surprise. I was wondering why Luke and Kieran were trying to keep me out of my own office. You’ve been busy, sweetie.” 

You watch as he takes in the room around him, still holding you close. You finally release a shaky breath and giggle as he blinks rapidly taking in the new decor. You dare to glance just above him to make sure the mistletoe is still secure. When your eyes flick back to Sylus’ he is staring at you. You can feel your cheeks warm under his gaze. He raises a brow and before you can distract him he looks up. 

“I have a lot to show you! I made some decorations just for you and I was going to bake some cookies. Tara also taught me how to make the best hot chocolate, I thought we could make that. And I brought some Christmas movies, did you hear the music? I got you a record and --”  

You were rambling, you couldn’t stop yourself. Sylus looks down at you in his arms, a smirk forming on his lips and a brow raised. He finally cuts you off.

“Mistletoe? Are you trying to tell me something?”

You are absolutely trying to tell him something, but you didn’t want to be this obvious. He wouldn’t have seen it immediately if you hadn’t fallen from the ladder.

“Of course not! It’s just a decoration!” 

Sylus smiles at your rushed explanation. You wonder if he’ll read between the lines and take the hint. You hung it up, you are ready for the next step, for your first real kiss with him. And if you’re honest, so much more. You held his gaze, falling silent. But instead of leaning in, he drops you to your feet. And he turns to walk further into the room.

Your heart hammers in your chest. He knows. He has to. You tried to make it seem like it wasn’t significant. But you knew he preferred it when you were direct with your intentions. He was punishing you. Your hand moves on its own and you grab his arm before he can move further away from you. He turns back to look at you and you stare at him silently, trying to convince yourself to just do it. Just be bold. If you see something you want, take it. 

“Something you want to say, kitten?”

You’re done waiting, you push up onto your toes and put your arms around his neck. Your lips press against his, gently at first. You’re not sure what washes over you, but you feel brave and powerful. You take his lower lip between your teeth and pull him to you. His hands find your hips and he pulls your body close. You feel his chest vibrate as he grunts in approval. You feel nearly delirious when you finally pull back. He must feel the same, with his ears turning red and his eyes misty.

His arms wrap around you and he pulls you back to him. His lips crash into yours now, you could tell taking it slow was the last thing on his mind. You thread your fingers through his hair. His hands move down to the back of your thighs, he lifts you and you wrap your legs around his waist. You hear the office door close behind you before you are carried into the room. You feel heat across the right side of your face and you turn your head, allowing Sylus to dive into your neck placing kiss after kiss. You’re in front of the fireplace, the heat from the flames damn near suffocating as you try to catch your breath. 

Sylus lowers to the floor, he positions your legs over his lap. One of his hands holding you upright while the other caresses your cheek, explores your thigh, your ass… He kisses you fervently, his tongue tracing your lips begging for permission. You can’t help but smile as you finally let him in, his tongue tangling with your own. It feels like hours before he finally pulls away and rests his forehead against yours.

“I knew you put that up for a reason…” His voice is breathless and raspy, making you giggle. Let him be cocky about being right, you know now more than ever, that you have this man wrapped around your finger.

“I didn’t realize we’d end up making out in front of the fireplace, I would have put some pillows down here.” 

“Use me as your pillow then.” 

He shifts and lays back on the floor, settling you on top of him. Your hands placed firmly on his chest, his hands rubbing your back ever so slightly sending tingles down your spine. You feel your stomach tighten as you stare at him. This man, he is feared by so many, but you have never felt safer. You want to stay here, laying on top of him in front of the fireplace, forever. No one vying for his attention, no Wanderers to fight. Just the two of you. 

“Sylus…”

He puts a hand behind his neck, lifting his head to look at you better. You almost choke on your words, you were just thinking about how you two were taking things slowly and now… You wanted more. But would he want to?

“Yes, my beloved?” 

You loved when he called you that. He started using it more often after getting back from the grasslands. And every time you catch yourself thinking about what life would have been like if you both had stayed. What would you be doing right now?

“I know what I want for Christmas.”

“Oh? But you said ‘No presents Sylus, I mean it’ just two days ago.” You roll your eyes to avoid blushing at his impersonation of you. 

“I changed my mind.”

“Alright, what do you want?”

“You.” 

He stares at you, his eyes wide with surprise. His ears start to turn red and you know he’s thinking up a snarky comment to make you just as flustered. But not this time. You weren’t going to lose your nerve, you were on cloud nine and didn’t want to let this moment slip away.

“You. Your time. Your space. Even your silly comments that drive me crazy. I just want you. And only you.”

You’ve never known him to be speechless, but he doesn’t even try to say another word. His lips pressed together, his jaw clenched. His eyes burrow into yours and you watch as every wall he built up comes crumbling down. Just like you feel entirely safe with him, he feels entirely safe with you. He caresses your face and you drop your gaze, feeling the weight of your confession hit you like a tsunami. He lifts your chin to look at him. 

“You’ve always had me.”

His lips find yours once more. You hold his face with your hands, sighing deeply as his hands drift from your waist, to your hips, lower and lower…

“I FIXED IT!”

You pull away from Sylus in a rush and you both look over to the door of the office. Luke and Kieran stand in the doorway, it seems they are frozen as they take in the scene before them. You, laying on top of Sylus on the floor in front of the fireplace. They start to slowly step backwards out the door when you spot the angel in Luke’s hand. 

“Wait! Oh my god! You did! You fixed it!”

You roll off of Sylus and stand up. Eagerly jogging around the couch to them. 

“Yeah, it wasn’t easy and it, ughh… might not be like it was.” He hands you the angel timidly.

You inspect the angel. The bumps of the dried hot glue and the tiny cracks and chips that couldn’t be repaired. You hold it up to the light and glance behind you, spotting a tiny rainbow square on the floor.

“It’s perfect.”

Luke sighs, relieved. Kieran pats his shoulder and tugs at his jacket urging him to follow him out of the room. Luke nods his head and skips out of the room behind Kieran, closing the door as he goes. Sylus walks up behind you and wraps his arms around your stomach.

“An angel?”

“A tree topper. An antique from my grandmother. I thought you might appreciate it being, well… unique, vintage? It’s my favorite.” 

“Then it’s my favorite too. Let’s put it on the tree then?”

You nod, not bothering to hide the smile on your face. He lifts you and places you on his shoulder. He holds onto your legs as you lean to settle the angel on top of the tree. Once it is secure, Sylus bends to let you hop off. You look up at the angel as Sylus wraps his arms around you once more. You hold onto his arms at your waist and lean back against his chest. You feel his heartbeat, always racing, but steady. Sylus leans down and places a kiss to your temple before whispering into your ear.

“Merry Christmas, my love.”

Tag List (comment if you wanna be added!): @trishiepo0 @not-so-quite-human @kitsunetori @babyx91 @libriomancer @lilyadora

[otaku553]

today on ✨my poor posture✨:

[artinvain]

abby being fucking mean w it (toxic!bff!abby) who is also a dealer+ slapping, spit, dumbification, degradation, dacryphilia, squirting. ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: abby’s used to the usual “you up?” text from you because even though she prayed about it every night, it usually meant nothing more than getting high and watching some film or tv show you’ve seen a million times before. but tonight, when she walks into your apartment something feels different.

“hi abs,” you coo from the couch where you’re wearing nothing but her hoodie and skimpy little shorts she can hardly see and all the blood drains from her head. abby gulps and tries to compose herself, says nothing when your nipples are hard and poking through the sweatshirt.

she can only hand you her dab pen and sit beside you. her thighs threatening to twist and rub together to soothe the growing ache between her them. she tries to ignore the fact that you smell freshly showered. your scent lathering her in rose and cocoa butter and she wants to smell your skin, lick up your neck and feel you up under her hoodie, see how soft you really are.

“what’s wrong?” you ask, your eyes glossy when you look over to your best friend. she hasn’t said a word for an entire episode. she’s been stroking up and down your legs absentmindedly, biting her lip. “nothing I just -“ she sighs, “why are you dressed like that?”

“like what?” you ask, although you’re not confused. you know it’s wrong to tease her like this, but you weren’t leading her on —

“why are you dressed like a fucking slut?” abby groans, finally turning to look at you, her glare making you shrink into yourself, your shorts dampening. the way she’s looking at you, like she’d tear you apart, her nose scrunched and her mouth curled in a snarl; it makes your face hot, your breathing picks up. “I - I don’t know, I wanted to be comfortable-“

“don’t fucking lie to me right now,” abby interrupts, parting your legs and kneeling between them, “I wanted your attention,” you whine finally acquiescing to her glare and placing your hands gingerly over hers on your thighs. “I want you abby,” you say breathless before she’s even done anything.

“want me how?” abby prompts and you guide her hand up your inner thigh to rest on your pussy, she sighs at the feeling of you over your tiny sleep shorts she can feel the soft hair on your mound some of her fingers graze your lips,

“not wearing any fucking panties?” she pants, leaning over you, nosing your neck and placing kisses there “you’re a greedy fucking bitch you know that?” you whimper softly and abby chuckles, “want me as your best friend — want me to listen about all those shitty dates I tell you not to go on,” she lets her fingers circle your clit softly, places a kiss on the side of your mouth,

“don’t want me going out on runs just to spend the day with you, even though you know it’s my fucking job,” she huffs, letting herself feel your wetness and groaning against your lips. you can’t help but cup her neck and bring her down to kiss you, taste that sweet tongue she shoves into your mouth and moan as you suck on it.

“I told you,” abby whispers against your lips “that I’m all you need but you’re too fucking stupid to see that,”

you whimper, trying to reach up for her lips but she pulls back to look at you, dazed and dewy — your pretty mouth in a pout. “m’sorry abs, i’ll —“ you don’t know what to say, abby’s never been so forthright with her command over you. “please I need you,”

“I know you do, silly, but how bad?” she asks, lazily working your wet clit, pulling your shorts to the side to dip her fingers lower to your wet, clenching cunt. “tell me how much you need me,” she brushes her nose against yours softly, dipping her fingers in as your mouth parts to speak.

“need you abby, I’ve always —fuck — always needed you,” your voice cracking as abby sinks her fingers home and curls them. abby huffs a moan as she scissors her fingers inside you, stretching you out and feeling your gummy walls wet and tighten around her.

“I know baby, and now you have me, gonna give this stupid little pussy what she needs,” she grunts, bucking her hips with her fingers, fucking in and out of you. “shit, gotta punish you for denying me of this,” she cups your cheek softly before slapping you lightly, loving the gasp you make, the shock in your eyes that melts quickly into lust when she does it again.

“s’okay though, gonna give it to you every fucking day,” abby says rubbing your clit with her thumb and adding another finger, “make sure I fuck you dumber than you already are,”

“abby, fuck too much,” you whine, squirming and still bucking your hips up into her hand for more -

“oh shut up,” she groans at the feeling you you trying to meet her thrusts “look at you, don’t even know what you fucking want,” she chuckles, “shut the fuck up, so I can give you what you need,” abby puckers your cheeks, spitting into your open mouth and sinking three of her fingers into it so you’re almost gagging on her. “perfect,” abby sighs, the feeling of filling you full making her hips twitch against you, her fingers inside you faltering if only for a second, “look so pretty all off of me,” she moans, the back of her palm rubbing against her clit so nicely she has to moan with you as she bucks and snaps her hips against you.

“should have just given it to you long ago,” abby whispers into your ear, “always knew you just wanted to be my cum-drunk slut,” she sinks the fingers in your mouth deeper just to hear you gag around them and whimpers when she curls her fingers inside your pussy, rubbing your gspot and not letting up, her thumb rubbing on your clit.

“you’re so fucking stupid though,” she cooes, “aren’t you? couldn’t even tell me what you wanted,” you shake your head rapidly and abby slows down.

“no? you’re not stupid?” abby removes her fingers from your mouth and puckers your cheeks, slapping it before presses a kiss to your mouth for every hard thrust she gives you, fucking the words out of you, “use your words then, tell me how good it feels — prove your not just a dumb fucking slut,”

but you can’t, fuck, not with the way her fingers are spearing into you, the way she’s curling them and rubbing your gspot so deliciously, you try to speak and all that falls from your mouth is “abs-baby please ungh fuck fuck oh god!”

the blonde uses her free hand, cascades it down your chest to press on your lower belly “see? you’re just a brainless doll, meant for me to fuck.” you’re seeing hot white like the pleasure curling outward from your belly, “come on be dumb, and feel so good and cum for me yeah?” abby sighs as you mewl, your thighs tightening around her, your nails clawing at her arms and leaving red lines behind. “aw that’s right baby, mark me up, let em know I’m yours,” she’s so fucking happy she finally has you. “m’gon- please wanna cum!” abby nods her bottom lip between her teeth and your whole body tightens, your toes curling and your back arching as you cum, gasping — tears falling from your eyes.

“shit shit, need ta fill you with my cock — fuck my sweet stupid girl”

you half think she’s joking, you think she’ll come back with a cloth and kisses and instead she’s handling you onto your belly, pulling your hips up and sliding her strap into you. and overstimulated as you are, you can’t help but back up into her,

“god, yeah, fuck yourself on my dick baby — shit you look so good doing your job, finally getting something right,” abby spreads your ass to see her strap going in and out of you, “fucking hell - that’s all you’re good for huh? drooling over me,” and this time you don’t disagree, too focused on the way she grinds her hips and humps you, her little sighs and moans and the shock when she smacks your ass.

abby steadies her hands on your hips and grunts as she holds you still, fucking into you. she’s bucking her hips so hard, filling you to the brim, her strap stretching you out until you’re whining and grabbing at pillows, trying to squirm out of her grip.

“nuh-uh, take it,” abby groans, pressing down between your shoulders to immobilise you, and grinning when you start to wail, tears springing from your eyes as you moan “yeah take my dick,” abby says, folding your arms behind your back and gripping them for leverage.

“you need this honey, need me to make you whole, get you dumb for the right reasons,” abby groans at the feeling of the strap rubbing against her overstimulated clit, she couldn’t help herself from cumming to the sound of your moans, the excitement of finally getting to fuck you overwhelmed her.

“tell me baby, tell me you need me,” she snarls, bucking her hips, she’s moaning like she can feel you, the way your clenching down on her, sucking her in.

“need you abby , need you need you so fuck! m’so stupid for you — ah!” you’re yelling when abby reaches down to rub your clit, “good girl, been such a good girl f’me,” she groans, grinding and shallowly thrusting into your gspot. “come on good girl, one more for me,” she moans and is in absolute awe when she feels you squirting into her hand and all over your couch.

Tags 🏷️ @lesbian-useless @sexysapphicshopowner @iamaboringrattat @sapphicsgirl @bimboprincezz

[spencerreidsreads]

What am I going to do with you?

Aaron Hotchner x gn!reader

Summary: You and Aaron share a cute moment in the kitchen

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 850 (just a short little one)

*based on THIS request*

AN: Just a short request today. I hope you enjoy! :)

“Ow ow ow”

Your moans of pain are the first thing Aaron hears when he walks through the door of your shared apartment after a long day at work.

As he shuffles further into your living space, he notices the smell of his favourite home cooked food and hears the sound of water running.

He approaches the kitchen where he heard you curse in pain and he sees you bent over the sink, holding your left index finger in your right hand and holding it under the stream of water of the tap.

You hadn’t noticed him yet, he takes a look around the kitchen and sees a variety of foods dotted around the counters. You had been preparing dinner for the pair of you.

“You ok sweetheart?” Aaron asks with sincerity in his voice. He knew based off of your facial expressions that you weren’t injured too badly. But Aaron doesn’t like seeing you in any pain whatsoever, no matter how big or small. So he can’t help but be concerned.

You turn around in surprise, having not heard him enter the apartment. A small smile makes its way onto your face, hiding the slight grimace you previously wore.

“I burned my finger on the pan” you exclaimed, inspecting the barley there burn on your finger.

Aaron walks over, gently prying your finger out of your other hand and placing it within his own. He lowered down to your height and squinted his eyes slightly to get a good look at your finger. It was red and he could tell it would be painful, but nothing too bad. And not much could really be done about it, running it under the tap and being gentle with it would work just fine.

He brought your hand up to his mouth, placing a slight kiss just below the burn, not wanting to hurt you more by touching it.

“Again?” he asked cheekily. This wasn’t the first time Aaron has caught you cursing to yourself over a kitchen based injury, you’ve burnt yourself several times. You’re simply just clumsy in the kitchen.

“It’s not my fault the stupid pans are too hot” you respond with a slight pout on your face, not liking being called out for your clumsiness.

Aaron laughs lightly at this, he thinks you’re adorable. Clumsy, but adorable.

He brings you into a tight embrace, both from having missed you whilst he worked today, and to show he meant no harm with his teasing.

Aaron slowly rocked you both side to side as he held one hand around your lower back, and the other gently stroking your hair on the back of your head.

After a short moment of indulging in you, he pulled back and looked lovingly into your eyes.

“What am I going to do with you?” he sighed teasingly, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“Maybe you can do the cooking for the rest of the week. I’m too injured to do anymore” you dramatically reply as you hold up your ‘injured’ finger, a smirk on your face.

“Oh of course, honey. I couldn’t possibly expect you to carry on with such an injury. Why don’t you go sit down while I finish plating up the food?” He questions, playing along with your dramatics.

You eagerly nod your head and rush to sit at the table. Aaron watches you go, his heart filled with so much love for you.

Once the food is all plated up he sets everything down on the table and sits to join you.

“Thank you for dinner sweetheart, everything looks great” Aaron tells you.

“You’re welcome” you respond. “I missed you”

“I missed you too. But I’m home now and should have the weekend off, so you have me all to yourself for a couple days.” Aaron is truly happy about this, he values every single minute he gets to spend with you. An entire weekend will be bliss. “What do you wanna do over the weekend?”

You thought about it for a second, there was plenty you had been wanting to do with Aaron for a while. Date nights out, museum visits and more. But honestly, you just wanted this weekend to be you and him with no disturbances. And nothing sounded better than staying in all weekend, with no one but each other. Cosy mornings and soft touches, movies and takeout, that sounded like bliss.

“Well… since I’m so terribly injured…”

You once again showed the burn on your finger (that had already practically disappeared)

…”I think we’ll have to stay in and watch movies and eat takeout all weekend”

Aaron truly couldn’t think of anything better. God he loved you so much.

“That sounds perfect, though I guess I’ll have to nurse you back to full health” he suggested with an eyebrow raise and a smirk.

You knew his suggestive intentions with that comment. He was going to take good care of you.

You smiled back, both of your eyes beginning to gloss over with lust.

This was going to be a fun weekend.

[sinstear]

ㅤ ㅤ— 🎀 apparently i can’t get enough of meanish lawyer!abby ㅤ  ㅤ  ㅤ  ㅤ  ㅤ  ㅤ  ㅤ  ㅤ  ㅤhighly inspired by this post.

mean lawyer!abby who refuses to touch you or do anything that you pleaded for her to do simply because you’re acting out and being a brat while she’s trying to finish up some stuff for a case she was currently working on. Instead, she just sits there, looking at you unamused as you prance around your shared apartment in nothing but the thinnest pair of panties that you own— could find, and one of her white button-ups. huffing and sighing every time you walk back into the living room.

“babe, i love you, so much, but can you please stop huffing, i’m trying to work” abby muttered. eyebrows pinched together, and her glasses slid down the bridge of her nose. “just 10 more minutes, is all i ask for”

“you said 10 more minutes, 15 minutes ago” you grumbled under your breath. practically throwing your body onto the couch and kicking your feet up on the coffee table. “i can wait another 10 minutes i’m sure” you scoffed. picking at your nails with a shrug.

you were too busy staring off at the black screen of the TV to notice the way her jaw clenched and uncleaned. the way her eyebrow rose at your remark, and the way she shook her head at yout attitude. “i told you—” 

“and i told you i would wait” you couldn’t help but cut her off with a scoff that had her holding her breath. “simple”

“and i wasn’t done talking” 

you gulped down the bratty remarks that clawed at your throat and threatened to spill at the sound of her voice and when the sound of the floorboard creaking beneath her foot rang through your ears and it was then that you finally noticed she was standing on the opposite side of the coffee table, staring at you with a hard glare. a few of her buttons undone, loose strands of hair flying in different directions, and those cute glasses of hers no longer on her face. she looked annoyed but so tired at the same time the longer she watched you. “abby—” you whispered, sinking your teeth into your lower lip.

“i do not want to hear another word coming out that mouth, do you understand?” she growled lowly. blue eyes piercing through yours as her chest rises up and down with each breath she takes.  “i have a little work to finish, so give me 10 minutes, and then i am all yours—”

you just had to run your mouth again. cutting her off with a sigh. “but you promised we would watch this new show—”

abby had somehow maneuvered herself from the other side of the table until she stood right in front of you. shivers ran down your spine when she crouched in front of you slowly, her pants creasing as she moved, and your eyes gazed upwards so damn slow until they met hers. still looking at you angrily. “try that again” she was still able to stay calm. “c’mon, you want to be a brat, so use your fuckin’ words” she scoffed, jaw clenching.

“i’m sorry—”

shaking her head slowly, like she couldn’t believe you dared to apologize now when you knew you were in trouble for your attitude problem. your eyes widening quickly while your lips part once she curls her finger around your chin, pulling your face closer to hers hard enough to have you gasping. “yeah baby? now you wanna be sorry?” she questioned. nodding her head with a click of her tongue.  “i don’t think you are, you just love to run that fuckin’ mouth of yours whenever you can, huh?”

looking up at her with wide eyes, she has the audacity to chuckle when she spots the tears welling up. “you cryin’ baby?” she mumbled. squeezing your cheeks together with one hand while the other wipes the one that threatens to fall. “what happened to my good girl, hm?” 

“just wanted to spend time with you” you mumbled truthfully. your thighs clench together tightly when her grip on your jaw tightens. the feeling has you holding back a whine when she just hums, nodding like she was listening but was more focused on the way a tear droplet falls down your cheek. “i am sorry”

abby leans her face closer to yours. so close that her breath is clashing with yours and she can see your pupils are so dilated because of her actions and the way she was touching you. chuckling softly, she tilts your head back, rising to her normal height, and the sight has you finally whining quietly in your spot. “keep up this attitude and we’ll see where it gets you” she mumbled. squishing your cheeks together a final time before licking her lips. “because as much as you love it, i would hate to bend you over my knee and make sure you can’t sit down for a week because you keep being a fuckin’ brat” she grinned wickedly.

safe to say, you waited the whole 10 extra minutes.

[dark-tides-in-faerun]

Boiling Point (1/2)

Astarion x You!

Your party stumble across a hot spring in the wilds and agree to take turns bathing. It turns out, Astarion isn’t very good at taking turns but is more than happy to share…

🌶️mature🌶️ (fair warning that this chapter is just a little steamy but the next one will be very nsfw!)

You lay on your back in the recently discovered hot spring, eyes closed, basking in the delicious warmth. If this wasn't heaven, you weren't sure what was. The moon lights up the little clearing you’re in, giving everything that it touches a lovely, silvery sheen, and you close your eyes and relax into it, feeling at ease for the first time in weeks.

“Well, hello.”

You almost jump out of your skin.

“Astarion.” You gasp, spluttering up a lungful of water as you quickly sink lower beneath the surface, arms crossing against your chest in a bid to protect your modesty as you twist toward him. The water’s cloudy enough that he wouldn’t be able to see anything, but that knowledge does very little to make you feel less exposed. “What in the nine hells is wrong with you?”

“Nothing that a little dip couldn’t fix.” He quips, lounging against a rock, his face the picture of innocence and your eyes narrow as you notice he’s clutching a crimson towel in one pale hand.

“It’s not your turn.” You warn, narrow eyes meeting his as his carefully blank face looks back at you. You’d all agreed on a schedule for hot spring use and given that he’d already talked you into letting him steal all of your allocated time, it definitely wasn’t his turn.

“Oh, I know that.” He replies, the picture of unaffected grace as he looks at his nails and then back at you. “I just think it’s a little selfish of you to be… indulging yourself with so little regard for other people’s feelings.”

“Is it?” You say, slowly, and his lips quirk up in response. “Or is it a ‘little selfish’ to interrupt someone during the only time they’ve had to themselves in days. Especially when that person in question has already given up every other opportunity to bathe in the hot spring for you.”

“Yes, yes, that was very generous of you darling, but try to look at it from my perspective. You generate your own heat, but what about me? Do you know what it feels like to spend night after night in this frozen and miserable, knowing that there’s something warm and wet that I could sink myself into just meters away?”

His voice is innocent, but as his eyes drop to where your skin disappears beneath the water, the smile he gives you is anything but. It's obvious he’s trying to use your physical response to him to manipulate you, because he's always trying to do that and you flush, desire flooding to your core just as he intends it. But you're not just flushing because of the obscene way he's looking at you. It's because that smile has reminded you of how he looked when he returned from the springs last night. All pink skin and delighted exuberance. He’d been light, playful, exhilarated... Happy. And you knew enough about his past to know that happiness wasn’t something he’d known much of in his long life.

“Why can't you just go and bother someone else for a change.” You grumble, but the delighted shine in his eyes shows you that he knows he's getting his way and you scowl at him. “Gods give me strength. Turn around.”

“Why?” he asks, mouth blooming into a full smile and you can’t help the extra little flip your stomach gives at the sight of it.

“Because I’m naked and I’m not getting out with you staring at me. Turn around.”

“Darling, I’m hurt. Are you really suggesting we can’t share? There’s more than enough room for two.” He pouts, eyes shining as he stares down at you, sparkling with mischief and butterflies flutter to life in your stomach at the suggestion. You know he’s only trying to get a rise out of you but damn it, if it isn’t working. "Besides, I promise to keep my hands to myself.”

You choke back a strangled laugh because it really wasn’t him you were worried about. The butterflies have gone into overdrive just from the suggestion, and you can feel the heat staining your cheeks a darker pink than the warmth of the hot spring. You stare up at him, eyes a little too wide, and he gives you a self-satisfied smile. You can see in his gaze that he expects you to balk. Expects you to surrender the hot spring and slink away with your pink cheeks and pounding heart.

Well fuck him.

You force a sweet smile, feeling a thrum of satisfaction at the slight widening of his eyes as instead of moving toward him you wade to the far edge and turn around. For a long moment there’s nothing and you wonder if he’s even still there.

“Well? Are you getting in or not?” You demand, proud that your voice is only a little shaky, and he lets out a laugh. You swallow, focusing on trying to keep your heart rate level as you hear the sound of rustling fabric and then the water ripples around you as he slips in behind you.

“You can look now, darling, I assure you I’m quite decent.”

You turn around and immediately regret not getting out when you had the chance.

There is nothing decent about the way he looks right now.

The moonlight floods the broad expanse of his naked chest, staining it an ethereal, shining white, and he looks like he was carved from marble. The steam from the water has already tightened the hair at the nape of his neck into little curls. He’s stark and beautiful in the silver moonlight, but it’s not even that, that’s most striking.

It’s his expression.

His eyes are closed, head resting against the grassy bank behind him and the little smile that plays at the edges of his lips is a million miles away from his usual shit-eating grin. It’s small and soft and decidedly content and you swallow. It’s the full force of the little smile you’d seen at camp. It’s true happiness, you realize and it makes your heart pound and ache in equal measure to acknowledge that you’ve never seen that particular smile before.

He shifts, lifting his arms from the water and resting them against the rocky edge of the pool, blinking up at you and that little smile dissolves into something darker. Water streams from his skin, running between the dips and crevices of his muscular biceps and you shrink into yourself a little, sinking into the water until just your chin hovers above it. There’s nothing you can do about your heart now, it’s pounding against your ribs like it wants to escape from your chest and his crimson eyes are fixed on you as you try your best to keep yourself in check.

“Happy now?” you ask, and though your voice is a little breathy you feel like the fact that you’ve even gotten the words out is a feat of heroic proportions.

“Very.” He replies closing his eyes, and you can’t help but smile at that. He looks more content than you’ve ever seen him and that thought triggers a reaction in you that’s so strong that you suddenly realize that you can’t stay here. He doesn’t deserve to be ogled like this, when he’s just trying to relax. From the little snippets he’s given you from his past he’s had enough of that to last several lifetimes.

You clear your throat and he opens his eyes again, one eyebrow raised questioningly you swallow, gesturing at him to swap places with you. He sits up at that, a surprised smile on his lips and you shake your head, not wanting him to get the wrong idea about your intentions.

“I’m going to leave you to it.” You say, your words only catching a little in your throat as he cocks his head to the side, looking at you thoughtfully.

“Leave me to what, exactly?” He asks, voice low and teasing, and heat rises beneath your cheeks as steam curls up in silvery tendrils around his chest.

“This. Warming up.” You manage, trying not to look at him as you edge your way around the to the other side of the spring, nearer to the grassy knoll, but you really need him to move out of the way if you want to make a graceful exit. “I’ll see you back at camp.”

“I can think of better ways to warm up.” He says, voice a little too innocent, and your gaze flicks to him before you can stop yourself. His eyes are fixed on you and the look in them is dark and predatory and you falter, heart in your throat. You’ve seen that look before, and you swallow as his gaze slips to your neck, the hunger in it apparent.

“I-I-“ you start, but your words die in your throat. The way he’s looking at you has melted your insides into a puddle of lust and your really, really need to get yourself under control. You take a breath. Blood. He means blood. You try to distract your pounding heart by thinking through the implications of what he’s asking. You’re no cleric, but surely bloodletting in hot water wasn’t the best of ideas... “Is it safe?”

He frowns at that, cocking his head to the side as if trying to work out your meaning and you swallow and touch your neck.

“Is it safe to feed in the water?” You say, again. He freezes for a second, and then some unreadable expression passes over his face before he quickly looks away. If you didn’t know him better, you’d have said it was disappointment.

“Of course.” He says, seemingly to himself, and when he looks up the expression has been swallowed up by his usual confidence. “Don’t worry, my sweet. I’ll take very good care of you.”

He holds out his hand and you bite your lip, hesitating for a moment. It’s not that you don’t trust him. If he says it’s safe you believe him, but you’re just suddenly very aware of your lack of clothes. You shift uncertainly, edging a tiny bit closer to him and a slow smile spread over his lips.

“I think you’ll find you need to be a little closer than that.” He says in a voice that spreads beneath your skin like treacle, and for the second time in one night you regret not leaving when you had the chance.

You shiver despite the heat as you place your hand in his and he wraps his pale fingers around yours, tugging you gently towards him. For one panicked second you think he's going to pull you onto his lap, but he stops when you're a few inches apart. You put your free hand on the grassy bank to steady yourself as he lifts your hand to his mouth, rotating it so that the soft skin of your wrist presses gently against his lips. He's fed from you before but, other than the very first time when he almost lost himself, he’s been almost clinical in his approach. Careful to only touch as much as he needs to.

This is not that.

You watch, dumbstruck, as his pink tongue slips out from between his lips to swipe a cool stripe across the overheated plane of your wrist. Your breath catches, a small hitch at the back of your throat, but he catches it and drowning crimson orbs flick up to meet your startled gaze. He does it again, staring at you darkly from beneath his eyelashes and licks another tortuously slow line across your aching skin.

You try not to, but you can't help but gasp, hand gripping tightly into the grass, and his pupils dilate with bloodlust as his fingers tighten against your skin. Gods.

“A-Astarion.” Your voice is breathy and tight, barely audible and you feel almost drunk from just this small amount of contact. He closes his eyes at the sound, a pained expression passing over his face as a shudder runs through his body, and then, before you can say anything else, his fangs sink into your wrist.

[revelboo]

i just wanted to say that one of the things i really enjoy about your writing is that you give us the point of view and thoughts of the cybertronians as well and not just the reader character. I very much enjoy their internal turmoil and it makes things more interesting when you see things from their perspective as well. I appreciate that i don't have to wonder how they are feeling in the many interesting situations you put them in :D

The perspective shift is how I’m used to writing for my serious stuff, though I pick someone’s POV and stick with it for an entire chapter at a time. Can’t really do that with these shorter form pieces. But I like getting both sides, makes misunderstandings so much more fun to play with

Feel Like Rain Pt 3

IDW Ratchet x Reader

• When you open your eyes, the room is so bright you immediately close them again, head pounding. Awareness slowly sinking into you that you’re propped up on something warm. That’s there’s a hand wrapped around one of your wrists and someone’s breath stirring your hair. None of those little details making any sense at all in your confusion. Squinting, there’s a feeling of disorientation as you try to reconcile what you’re seeing with reality. Oddly thinking of Alice in Wonderland as the scale of the space you’re in sinks in. Everything made for someone much bigger than you are. Lifting your head, you bump into something solid that makes a deep, noise. That hand around your wrist flexes, fingers sliding against the soft underside until they find your pulse. And you look down, breath hitching at that red, intricately jointed metal hand touching you.

• Your pulse is racing under his servos as he drags himself out of recharge after spending all night watching over you, finally giving up and holding you when you wouldn’t stop shaking from the cold. Hears you make a pained little noise as your feet slide on the surface of the berth, moving that broken leg he’d tried his best to set. “You’re going to hurt yourself,” he growls, catching your wrapped arm before you can try to push him away. “You’re okay.” Hating that broken, pained moan that escapes you and the way you begin to tremble. Hurting and scared. Is he a monster to you? Causing you harm by trying to help you?

• Heart racing as adrenaline shakes through you, you push your head back, trying to arch out of the stranger’s embrace. That voice, though. You remember it whispering to you while you’d drifted in and out. That voice and such gentle hands taking care of you. Looking up, you can see a jaw and a serious mouth. Not human, not flesh and blood, though. What is he? He’s restraining you, but carefully as if it matters if you get hurt and that calms the fear, feeling it slip out of you to leave you exhausted. Because that voice saved you, you’re sure of it. He’s just not human.

• Slumping back against him, he’s not sure if you just exhausted yourself or if you understand he’s not going to hurt you. Hopes it’s the latter, but doesn’t really expect it to be. “You’re safe, but I can’t let you thrash around,” he murmurs, gently releasing your bound arm. Relaxing himself when you slowly lower it instead of fighting him again. Freezing as your good hand finds his still draped across you to keep you still. Shaking fingers sliding against the back of his hand in a frightened exploration. Silent, he turns his hand over, spark aching when you interlace your small fingers with his much bigger servos. Accepting his word. Trusting him to take care of you. “You going to be okay.”

• And you believe him. Believe that low, gruff voice despite yourself, because that voice gave you something to focus on besides the pain. Telling you what he’s doing as he’d tried to help you even if he wasn’t aware that you could hear him. Keeping you present and aware instead of just drowning in misery. Those strong servos gently squeeze your hand and you lay your head back against him. Studying his profile. His own head turning so those bright blue optics are watching you as exhaustion tugs at you. “Pretty eyes,” you murmur, giving in and letting your stressed body pull you back under.

Previous

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

𝘿𝘼𝙔 𝙎𝙄𝙓: Spit-Roasting w/ Spencer Reid [ft. Luke Alvez]

a/n: y'all this one actually FLABBERGASTED me... my mind will never fail to surprise me, and if i'm going to be honest, i listened to metal/heavy metal music the whole time and it helped me to stay focused for the actual hour it took me to write this 😭

masterlist | kinktober masterlist | AO3

A perfect sandwich is what you’d like to call this.

Cradled between the bodies of two of the hottest Agents of your team is a sure fire way to spend your night, and you’re more than pleased.

Spencer’s lying below you, your knees settled on either side of his hips as your lips are met in a heated embrace. You’re as naked as the day you were born and he is too, his hardness barely poking at your full stomach.

You’re bent over him with Luke behind you, a heavy hand pressing down your lower back as he works you open with two big fingers. You’re moaning helplessly into the genius’ mouth, your nails digging into the pillows besides his head.

“Luke!” You pull away with a breathless moan, throwing back your head at particularly hard drag to your g-spot. “‘Feel good, sweetheart?” You can hear the cocky lilt to his voice, his nice, full lips no doubtedly pulled up into that familiar, cheeky smirk.

“Fuck – you’re such an asshole.” You swear and he just chuckles. “Yeah, yeah, say that to me when I’m not knuckle deep inside you, ‘kay?”

You grumble, but nevertheless reconnect your lips with Spencer’s who are pulled taunt in an attempt to hide his amusement. “Don’t –” You choke when Luke begins to draw circles tightly on your clit.

“Don’t encourage him.” Your words trail off in a whine.

“Sorry, baby.” Spencer says, but he doesn’t even sound all that sorry, but you’ll make him. You prop yourself on your right forearm while the other one trails down to grasp at his long cock, up stroking him just to hear that pleasurable sound of the air getting punched out of him.

“Shit!” He swears, his own neck extending back, and you connect your lips to the tanned skin there, nibbling relentlessly.

“So much for no marks, huh?” Luke pokes from behind you. “Don’t act like you didn’t get your turn.” You mumble just loud enough for him to hear.

You make sure that Spencer’s skin is painted red by the time you pull away, your strokes matching each time you roll the delicate skin between your teeth.

“Stop, stop. Not gonna last long.” He removes your hand, and you huff.

“Get back here then, Spence.” Luke sounds. “She’s had a real smart mouth all night, might have to put it to good use, don’t you think?”

Spencer raises a brow at his dominance but agrees, “Alright.”

Your skin heats at the implications of his words, and you’re dragged by your hips, Luke rearranging you so that he can step in front of you. You squeak and your knees burn at the sheets rubbing them, but it makes you shiver.

They settle into their respective places, Spencer’s lithe, long fingers holding your waist deeply contrast the roughness that is Luke Alvez.

Your eyes rest on Luke’s large cock bobbing in front of you, and you raise a brow. “Why hello, big boy.” You murmur with a small smirk. Your eyes flutter upwards to meet his, and he’s looking at you expectantly.

It’s clear you’ve gotten on his nerves, and you can’t help the feeling of sick satisfaction that spreads throughout you. Normally, Luke’s gentle during your encounters together, two men softly worship your body.

But not tonight. Nay, tonight, you wanted it rough, you wanted it mean, you wanted it hard.

“You’re no fun.” You pout but, open your mouth to engulf it over his precum covered tip, digging your tongue into the slit of it. He grunts, large fingers winding themselves through your hair to anchor you to him.

Spencer caresses the skin of your waist all the way down the sides of your thighs before trialing up to spread your ass, watching as his long cock sinks into you.

“God,” He groans, “You feel perfect.” His head is bowed downwards a bit, his eyes screwed shut.

You’re no better, now feverishly licking at the pulsing skin of Luke’s dick, taking him down as far as you can – which sadly isn’t very far considering the sheer girth of the man – but you pick up where you lack by jerking him off.

Luke hisses, eyes practically boring into where your mouth connects to him, and he gives an experimental rock of his hips. You choke for a moment, and you pull off of him, understanding what he needs.

“Fuck my throat please.” It’s a needy mewl, and you retake him into your throat, sinking, sinking, sinking, waiting for him to catch up. “You already know what to do if it’s too much.” You just hum, gripping him by his muscular thighs.

Spencer begins to set a pace, and every time he pulls out, so does Luke, until they’re met up in perfect harmony with one another, using your body as they please. You’re moaning, and the noises that are leaving the three of you are downright sinful. If this was a porno, you’re sure you would make millions.

Tears burn in your eyes and spit foams at the corner of your mouth, but that doesn’t stop you from relaxing your throat to take in more of him. Spencer keeps hitting your g-spot with coordinated ease. He pretty much knows your body like the back of his hand.

You feel the coiling of your gut signaling your end, and your walls flutter around the older male behind you. Your breathing stutters and your nails dig into Luke’s thighs.

He’s pulsing in your mouth, and Spencer’s hips are stuttering, growing less deliberate and uncontrolled as he begins to grind into you. You disconnect from Luke’s cock, your chest heaving. A dribble of spit draws a bridge from your lips to his tip.

“‘M close, fuck, ‘m so close.” You cry out, and your head falls forward to land on the man’s firm stomach. Spencer begins thrusting into you faster.

“I got you, sweet girl. Just a little more.”

You’re jerking Luke off as fast as you can, and your wrist burns, but you pay it no mind as you lean up.

Luke is groaning something guttural, feral, and your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head.

“Cum on my face. Please… I need it.”

“Anything you want.” Is his grunted response.

The three of you are frantic in your movements, desperate to meet your ends.

Luke comes first, cum shooting out and hitting your lips and chin, as well as your eyelashes as he trembles and shakes, the hand on your head holding a death grip of your scalp.

Spencer’s next to follow, and a hand finds itself between the two of you to find your swollen clit, and rubbing, rubbing, rubbing, until you gush all over him with a loud cry that could practically be considered a scream.

It’s silent for a moment and you fall forward, chest heaving and finding solace in the cool feelings of the sheet contrasting with what of Luke’s skin.

“Everyone alright?” Luke is the first to ask.

“Just peachy.” You hum, wiggling to get comfortable as Spencer pulls out of you.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @murdadixon @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @khxna @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus

[mymindisneverhere]

Summary: Terrys been spending a lot of time helping Summer recover and you can’t help but to feel neglected and a bit jealous.

warnings: angst, fluff, and some jealousy

Let’s Make Up

It’s been a few weeks since Summer's recovery and you’ve been completely understanding of her and Terry's friendship. Ever since Terry lost his cousin and witnessing Summer almost lose her life, he was overcome with panic and anxiety. Although Mike's death wasn’t Terrys fault, he still took on a great deal of guilt for his passing.

With Summer coming face to face with death, Terry spent every free moment he could making sure she was okay. He made sure she had the food she needed, he was sure she got lots of rest and spent time with her daughter. However all of the time he spent with her was time away from you and you couldn’t help but to feel a hint of jealousy.

“Hi Summer, how are you feeling?” You greeted with a forced smile.

“I’m doing much better.” Summer responded. “The doctors said as long as I keep myself hydrated and active I should be back to normal really soon.”

“That’s good.” You said.

You were in the kitchen preparing dinner for you, Terry, and now Summer. You tried to hide your emotions but as the days went by it was becoming more of a challenge.

“Summer’s staying for dinner, is that okay?” Terry asked, grabbing a cold water out of the fridge.

“Sure.” You responded dryly. “Thanks for the heads up, again.”

Summer and Terry couldn’t help but to catch the sarcasm in your tone. It wasn’t like you were trying to hide it anyway.

Every night for the past three weeks, you’d prepare dinner for the two of you and just when you thought you’d finally have an intimate evening with your husband, here comes Summer at the last minute. You were stuck between feeling sorry for her situation and also wanting your husband back. Yeah she needed the help getting back herself, but how long was that going to take?

“You okay?” Terry whispered to you, placing a hand on your lower back.

You quickly brushed his hand away and headed to the sink with a bowl of potatoes to rinse them.

“Yep.” You turn the water on full blast hoping to drown out anything else Terry was about to say.

Terry looked over at Summer not needing to say anything. Summer could take a hint so she decided to head home.

“I’ll just go, I don’t wanna overstay my welcome.” Summer smiled nervously, grabbing her bag and car keys. “I’ve gotta take my meds anyway, see you guys later. Thanks again T.”

“Be careful Summer.” Terry watched carefully as Summer exited the house and waited a few seconds before hearing her Volvo start up and pull off.

“Is everything okay?” Terry asked, turning his attention back to you, his voice calm.

“Peachy.” You responded, sarcasm lacing your tongue yet again.

Terry took a deep breath and placed his water on the counter. Ever so often he would pick up on your side comments and petty remarks. He had to admit that sometimes the immaturity was not the most flattering on you. Although he could do without the childish games, he understood you better than anyone else did so he’d give you a pass.

“It’s nothing Terry.” You stated. You grabbed a knife from the drawer and began aggressively chopping the potatoes.

He knew not to fight fire with fire, especially with you. It would get you guys nowhere. As sensitive as you were, he knew to deal with you accordingly. He was never one for ego trips, so he had no problem doing whatever he could to be sure you two were in perfect harmony. Even if that meant swallowing his pride and letting you throw your tantrums.

“Come on babe, don’t do that.” He said, hinting at your passive aggressive behavior. “Talk to me, tell me what’s bothering you instead of making me guess.”

“Is Summer your wife now? Cause it sure as hell feels like it.” You spat, turning to face him, knife still in hand.

Terry eyed the knife then you.

“You wanna put the knife down?” He said, his eyes darting back and forth between you and the knife.

“I’m not gonna cut you Terry…” You started. “Unless I need to.”

You stared up at him with a raised brow.

Most people would find Terry intimidating. His height, his authoritative voice and stern expression caused most to shrink in his presence. But you didn’t care about any of that, especially not at the moment.

“You can’t possibly think I’ve done anything with Summer.” He joked, smiling slightly. He couldn’t believe what you were suggesting just by the face you were making.

Your expression quickly changed from skepticism to anger. You were never really a jealous woman but you needed time and attention. If he wasn’t giving it to you then it was going to Summer, and what exactly was she doing to get so much attention from your husband?

You knew about her condition. You knew about her past struggles with drugs and how she was fighting to get her daughter back. But Summer was a grown woman who should’ve been able to take care of herself at some point.

“So this is a joke to you?” You questioned. You slammed the knife down onto the counter and brushed past Terry, heading to your bedroom.

“You can’t be serious right now.” He was right behind you. “She just got out of the hospital from an overdose. I walked her into the hospital, I made sure she was okay, she could’ve died hadn’t I taken her in time. Am I supposed to just leave her and disappear like I don’t care?”

“You know that’s not what I'm saying, do not make me seem like I'm some heartless person!” You shot back, turning to meet him face to face.

“Then what is it?” He asked, genuine confusion written over his face.

“Terry, when was the last time we had movie night?” You began. “When was the last time we went on a date? Hell, when was the last time we fell asleep together in our bed?”

“Some days you’re so out of touch with reality and so laser focused on fixing another person, I don’t even know what’s going on with you!”

Terry relaxed his shoulders and let out a sigh of defeat. He didn’t realize that him being so concerned about Summer, who was solely a friend, would result in him neglecting you and your needs.

“Every day you leave out early in the morning and come home late at night and the nights when you do make it home in time, guess who's right behind you?” You were pissed beyond belief. “I spend the days all alone, do you know how empty it feels to know my husband isn’t home to hold me while I fall asleep? That he much rather be out playing nurse than to be here with me making sure I’m okay? Or did you forget you were even married?”

He stood silently staring down at you with a look of regret and sorrow.

“I didn’t know.” He admitted.

You scoffed and turned to take a seat on your side of the bed. You couldn’t believe that the only thing he could muster up was “I didn’t know.”. He needed to try ten times harder than that or he would be falling asleep in the living room for the next few nights.

“Baby listen.” Terry spoke. He walked over to you taking a seat in the chair across from you.

“I wasn’t trying to make you feel like you were second to Summer, those weren’t my intentions at all.” He stated, his eyes locked onto yours. “It’s just…”

He took a breath and ran his hands down his face.

“I’ve been feeling this heavy sense of guilt since Mike passed. After all I did to bring some sort of justice to his death and Summer being the one to help me in all of this, I didn’t know what to do when Summer wasn’t responsive after what those cops did to her.” He looked down at his hands. “I didn’t know if I could handle both of those deaths back to back like that.”

“I just wanted to run from the guilt that I felt so I made it my priority to try and nurse her back to health and in doing that I neglected you and I’m sorry.” His eyes were filled with remorse, turning a soft brown as he stared at you.

“Why didn’t you tell me you felt guilty for Mike’s death, we could’ve talked about it?” You asked him.

“I was just trying to be strong I guess, not let the emotions catch up to me.” He chuckled. “The Marines will do that to you.”

“Well you’re not there anymore.” You stated in all seriousness. “If you can’t tell me what’s going on with you, then what am I here for?”

“You’re right.” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I don’t want you to neglect Summer either but I need you to find some balance in this. You can care for your friend and still be here for me as well, she’s not the only one who needs you.” You added.

The two of you stared at each other for a few moments, the sound of cars passing by being the only noise in the room.

“Mike’s death isn’t on you but at least you know he’s in a much better place and so is Summer. She’s healthy, she’s got her weight back and she’s a big girl, she can handle herself.” You stated. “You can stop trying to play Superman for everyone, you need to take care of yourself too.”

He nodded in agreement.

“You forgive me?” He looked at you with pleading eyes.

You waited a few seconds before responding just to admire the look on his face. Although you two had your moments, he was so good to you. He never hesitated to right whatever wrong he had done.

But he had a lot of making up to do and you knew exactly how you wanted him to do it.

“Not yet.” You smirked, staring down at his lips

He paused, catching onto what you were suggesting. A small smile crept onto his face as he shook his head.

“What I gotta do?” He asked, staring at your lips, his eyes fading from soft brown to green.

“Whatever I say…” You said, standing up and towering over him.

Little did he know he was in for a long night…

*Next Day*

You slowly opened your eyes, the sunlight beaming through your thin curtains. You rolled over to find your bed empty, again. Sitting upright, you looked around the room wondering how he was gone yet again after the talk you two had last night.

Just when you felt yourself becoming upset, the smell of breakfast filled your nostrils and you began to blush. The aroma of pancakes, eggs, bacon and fresh fruit filled your home and you knew who was responsible for that.

Terry didn’t cook often simply because you enjoyed being in the kitchen most of the time and he didn’t want to interrupt your flow. You guys weren’t a completely traditional couple but while you handled most of the cooking, he took care of the rest of the house work and you two were okay with that.

You rushed to brush your teeth and wash your face before heading into the kitchen. Terry was there in his pajama pants, no shirt with a kitchen towel hanging off his shoulder. You giggled to yourself as you noticed how seriously he would take things, even the smallest tasks.

He didn’t notice you walk in so you decided to lean against the wall admiring the view. You watched as he moved around the kitchen like a professional. The way his muscles tensed with every flip of the pancake, the way his tattoos appeared so clearly against his smooth skin, you could sit and watch him do anything all day long.

“You know you've never been good at sneaking up on me.” He joked, without turning to face you. Terry was always 100% alert and aware of his surroundings even in his own home. There wasn’t anything he couldn’t sense no matter how small it was. It was ingrained in him to be so hyper vigilant.

You stood up straight, taking your weight off of the wall and walked over to him. “Damn Marines.” You kissed your teeth in annoyance.

He laughed and placed the last of the breakfast onto a large plate on the table where the rest of the food sat.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He said, placing a soft kiss on your lips.

“Good morning.” You took a seat at the kitchen table and placed a tablecloth on your lap.

“How’d you sleep?” He asked.

“I slept well, finally having you next to me, I didn’t toss and turn all night.” You said looking up at him. “I really missed you baby. You’ve been up all morning cooking all this food?”

“Of course, anything for you.” He stated. He sat a plate right in front of you and another directly across from you. “I figured I could start off by cooking your favorite meal of the day.”

He reached into fridge and grabbed two juices and looked to you. “Apple or Orange?” He inquired, holding up both jugs of juice in each hand.

“Apple, duh!” You laughed.

“I just wanted to give you options.” He joined you in laughter.

He poured two tall glasses of juice for the two of you and took a seat across from you. The two of you sat enjoying the food and much needed conversation. It had been such a long time since you actually sat together, you had so much catching up to do.

Terry sat fully tuned in as you filled him in on the latest gossip of the town and at work. He loved how you got so excited just to share something as simple as lighthearted drama on the job with him. He missed your sense of humor and animated personality, it was the perfect match for his calm and relaxed demeanor.

“Knock Knock.” A familiar voice rang out, it was Summer.

“We're in the kitchen.” Terry announced, looking at you. He continued eating his breakfast as if nothing was happening.

You stared back at him with an unreadable expression. You weren’t upset but you weren’t happy either.

“I’m just coming to deliver a package before I head into town to see my little girl.” Summer said before turning the corner holding a large bouquet of roses.

You looked at her in shock and then back to Terry, a sly smirk on his face as he ate his breakfast. She held bright pink roses in her hands, your favorite flowers, the same ones Terry bought you on your first date, during your engagement and for every anniversary.

“Oh my God.” You stood up from your seat and grabbed the flowers from her, the both of you struggling to hold up the weight, considering your stature.

“Terry asked if I could bring these by on my way into town.” Summer started. “My neighbors are florists so it wasn’t a bother at all.”

“Thank you Summer, I really appreciate it.” You said with a soft smile. The two of you stared at each other for a few seconds, not really needing to say much because your expressions told it all. Hers soft and apologetic and yours grateful yet compassionate.

“Well I have to go, don’t wanna be late.” Summer stated, breaking the silence.

“Enjoy your time with your daughter.” Terry said, walking Summer to the door. “Be careful up there.”

“Will do.” Summer said.

Terry walked back into the kitchen to see you smelling your roses, a huge smile on your face that always warmed his heart. He didn’t need to distract himself from the loss of his cousin by smothering Summer. He needed to be home with you, his wife. Just the sight of you being happy was enough to make him feel better again.

“You were about to go off on me again, weren’t you?” Terry smiled, folding his arms over his chest.

“No.” You lied. The expression on Terrys face let you know he didn’t believe you one bit.

“I mean I was just surprised, but I love them so much, they’re beautiful baby.” You said, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him.

“I don’t know where I wanna put them.” You searched around the kitchen for the perfect spot.

“Just place them down for now.” He instructed.

He took your hand and led you to the living room where blankets and pillows sat on the floor. All of your favorite snacks and candy, popcorn and bottles of wine. There were tea lights lit around the floor and fireplace. Your eyes darted around the room, taking in everything before your eyes landed on the TV.

You looked up at Terry in complete shock and excitement.

“I rented all five Twilight movies,” He started. “We’re binging all day, I got all your favorites. It’s just you, me and your favorite movie all day and all night.”

“How did you have the time to do all of this?” You asked genuinely wondering how he set all of this up.

“Well I figured you’d be in a deep sleep after last night.” He joked with a flirtatious smirk on his face. “So I got up a little early and got to work.”

He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into his chest. You relaxed into his arms and let out a deep sigh of satisfaction. You felt young again, like he was courting you, trying to win your heart and make you his all over again.

“I won’t ever go missing on you like that again baby, I promise.” He said looking down into your eyes. “I love you.” The serious expression on his face telling you that he was being completely real with you.

“I love you more Terry.” The two of you kissed again before snuggling onto the pallet on the floor and enjoying each other’s company for the rest of the day.

(Please excuse any mistakes! 🩵)

[astayinwonderland]

Do you think we are about to make a terrible mistake? | Zhong Chenle

pairing: chenle x f.reader

genre: besties to lovers | smut +18 MDNI

summary: chenle has been away for a while and you miss your best friend-- however, everything changes when you realise you might actually love him more than a friend

wc: 2.2k

warnings: mentions and use of alcohol, anxiety, consensual sex, unprotected sex (pls no), oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms-- lmk if I forgot anything

It’s 15 minutes past 11, where the fuck is he? 

You already texted him twice. You called. The party had already started and your friends wondered if you would make it. Hell, you were wondering if you should just go on your own. But no– you promised you would get there together for old-time’s sake. It’s been a little over a year since Chenle moved out of the country, your days of embracing nothingness together are gone, movie nights are just nostalgic memories, and maybe some words left unspoken. You missed your best friend dearly and even though you often called each other, it was not the same. Not at all. You missed more than his company. You missed his essence, aura, sparkly eyes, smile, and touch… 

Your heart suddenly ached. Were you truly in love or is it just the fact that this is the first time you will see him since he left? The thoughts that rudely invade your brain get interrupted by three loud knocks. Running to the door, you can feel the thundering beating of your heart ringing in your ears. 

“I know I’m late, I’m sorry…. Please don’t be upset–” 

You open the door abruptly and there he is. 

Zhong Chenle. 

Blue 3-piece suit. His hair graciously falls over his forehead, framing his beautiful face. He gives you the brightest of smiles, your heart skips a bit. 

“Don’t hate me. Come here!” he opens his arms to embrace you. 

“Shut up,” you throw your arms around him, and suddenly everything is fine. Time has not passed. 

His nose lowers to your head and he inhales your scent. This is home to him, he can’t believe he’s been away from you for so long. All he yearns is to keep you close, but doing so means having to accept the fact that he is irremediably in love with you. 

Smoke and bright lights danced around the place and the crowd made way for you and the man of the hour apparently. Everyone reaches out to Chenle. Hugs, high fives, praises, and kisses shower him. You can’t help but feel a tad bit jealous. This was supposed to be a fun night for you and your best friend… and your other friends as well. But Chenle is loved, popular, and missed, of course, people would be all over him. You feel silly for suggesting going to the party in the first place. 

You’re snapped back to reality when your body crashes into Chenle’s. His hand is possessively placed around your waist. Your audible gasp makes him laugh. 

“Where did your mind go, silly?” 

“Nowhere, I just wish we were somewhere else. This is not how I envisioned tonight, you know… after spending so much time apart,” you force a smile and feel his thumb caressing you softly. There was something up with him, but to your surprise, you couldn’t read him. 

Chenle closes the distance between you too. He's a little too close, his breath fanning on your face. Is he going to–

“Chenle!” 

Shiny hair, plump lips, white smile. Her manicured hand was already snaking its way to Chenle’s arm. She looks at you, scanning up and down as if she were trying to figure out who you are. 

“Oh, hey! Wh- what are you doing here?” Chenle replies. A kiss on her cheek makes your heart sink. 

Chenle’s eyes go from you to the girl and again to you. He is about to introduce you but you suddenly feel like your heart is going to burst out your chest, your palms are sweaty, your eyes getting watery and your ability to breathe fades as you try to fight the feeling. 

“I really need to go. Sorry– Nice to meet you,” you say politely. You try not to cry as you make your way out. Chenle watches as you leave, but he feels how his chest tightens more and more with each step you take away from him. 

After his third call, you get into the shower hoping that the pain would fade away with the hot water hitting your vulnerable skin. With tears streaming down your face and sobs that echo around your bathroom you finish your shower. You are too exhausted to do anything else but sleep, and your phone has long been forgotten in your purse. 

You think you just blinked but in reality, it is a little past 3 a.m. and the faintest sound coming from your door seems to wake you up. In a panic, you rush and open the door to find a sobering Chenle by your door. 

“...it was about fucking time you opened that door, silly, I’ve been knocking for hours I thought–” 

You cut him off, pulling him in. 

“Chenle what the fuck?” 

He smiles at your puzzled expression. His hair is a bit messy now, blue suit is wrinkled. You can’t help but wonder if anything happened with the girl in the club. 

“I’ve been waiting for hours… I followed you back here but you locked the door. I called you so many times… ” he frowns. 

You go to the kitchen and fetch him a water bottle. As he starts drinking it, you find his eyes searching yours…  Sparks. No. No. This is your best friend Chenle. Nothing can ever happen between you and your best friend. The one who taught you how to ride a bike, tie your shoelaces, and give the best hugs ever. 

“You look so pretty,” he finally says. 

“Drink your water, Chenle,” you sigh. 

“You do!” he insists. 

“Who has she?” and you can’t believe the words that leave your mouth. You weren’t supposed to ask. 

“We did a semester together abroad. She is a good classmate that’s all. I never meant to upset you– you are too important…” 

You weren’t sure where the conversation was going, but Chenle assumed he talked too much. He puts the water bottle down and makes his way to you. Now you find yourself between your best friend and your bedroom door. The hard wooden surface against your back reminds you that once you cross that threshold with him, your relationship will change forever. 

His hands touch your waist, not sure if he has permission to do so, but you welcome him as the drug you need. His lips inches from yours and you pray he will kiss you, but time stops. It’s really only you and him at last like you dreamt of so many restless nights. 

“I’ve been wanting to ask you something since the moment I came back…” 

“Yes?” your voice comes out as a breathless whisper. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

You can’t even wait to answer him when your lips are already on his. His tongue teases yours and your lips part. He tastes of expensive wine, lust, and love. Chenle moans into your mouth and that is it for you. You want every single inch of you to be consumed by him. You reach out to open the door to your room. 

“Please,” you ask. 

“How can I say no to you?” he smiles and kisses you once again. 

Each second you spend kissing him you feel your skin getting hotter, desire coursing through your veins making you dizzy, and then you feel him carry you. Bride style, his lips never leaving yours. He carefully lowers you onto the bed, his hands now exploring your clothed body, the feeling of sparks under his fingertips making the moment intense, and urgent. Little moans and cries escape you both as Chenle helps you to straddle him. Your delicate fingers move his hair away from his face. The most beautiful man is underneath you, eyes on yours, lips parted. His chest rises and falls, you contemplate him for a moment. He takes your hands into his, everything seems surreal, you have spent countless times in this bedroom but not like this—a new territory. 

“Do you think we are about to make a terrible mistake?” your voice is small, you may not want to know what he has to say. 

He shakes his head. His hand reaches your cheek. 

“Do you?” 

Now you shake your head. 

“Good. Then kiss me, silly, and don’t stop unless you don’t want to do this–” but you don’t let him finish his thought and your lips already found his. 

It is then that you finally understand that he needs you as much as you need him. The pieces of clothing now are forgotten somewhere on your bedroom floor. Every part of you reacting to Chenle’s heavenly but sinful touch. His fingers finally take the only item of clothing left, your panties. He lowers himself, eye level with your wet cunt. 

“So pretty,” he murmurs. 

His tongue licks your entrance, ending in your clit which he sucks and your soul seems to leave your body as your back arches for him. Your hands immediately reach your breasts increasing the sinful pleasure coursing through you. You feel one of his fingers slide in you with almost no resistance. That’s how aroused you are for him. You gasp and your hips move, making the feeling of his hot mouth on your cunt even better. With his tongue flat on your slit, Chenle’s hands squeeze your thighs, encouraging you to use his face as you please. Only stopping to spit on your throbbing core, he eats you out so deliciously your soft moans turning louder. Legs over his shoulders now, he adds two curling fingers in you. 

Again and again, he kicks your clit, his fingers working magic inside you, fogging your brain and heightening the urge to cum for him. 

“Fuck! I– I’m–” you can’t think, you can’t speak… and so your orgasm hits you with such intensity you are shaking under him. Your legs turn to jelly. The heavy breathing that follows your cries echo in your ears. Chenle plants one last kiss on your clit and your legs close from the overstimulation. 

He lets out a low-pitched chuckle and the vibration travels straight to your clit again. 

“You okay?” 

You look at him in between your legs. Did this just happen? Your head falls back once more to the pillow. An involuntary laugh escapes your lips. But Chenle knows you, sometimes better than he knows himself he thinks and to him, this moment is making his heart go a million miles an hour. What an honour to have you like this, all fucked out, and all for him. 

Little kisses are planted on your thighs, on your lower stomach, your hands, your breasts, until he reaches your face. You giggle in response. His eyes meet yours, and different from what you thought, you are not embarrassed. You want him more than ever, so you kiss him. 

“More than okay,” you finally replied. 

Reaching south of his body you find his erection already leaking for you. You stroke it slowly, the faintest of moans leaving Chenle’s lips. This is the greatest reward you can get. His breath hitches as your pace gets faster. 

“Aaahhh…” a long, whiny moan. 

“You like that?” 

He nods reassuring you. 

You bring his hips lower, aligning his tip with your entrance. In anticipation, your eyes shut but immediately your jaw falls open when Chenle’s cock begins to stretch your needy cunt. Inch after inch, pleasure builds on pleasure and you silently pray the moment never ends when he starts moving in but not completely out of you. Your nails digging into his biceps, loving the way he stretches you out. 

“Ch-chenle,” 

“I know, I got you,” and he wraps one of your legs around his waist, making his thrusts deeper, his cock dragging against your walls that clench tightly around him. 

“Feels so so good,” your hand goes to his head, grabbing a handful of hair and pulling slightly. 

“Say. That. Again,” he moans. 

“It feels so good”. 

Chenle buries his face in the crook of your neck. Mild sharp pain fades into pleasure when he bites your skin, licking the now sensitive spot to ease the harsh sensation. You pull his hair once more, this time to make him kiss you. And he does, so lost in passion, so lost in you. The kiss is sloppy, messy, perfect. His thumb presses circles on your clit acting as the perfect trigger for your orgasm. You feel climbing higher and higher, his cock twitching inside you, his hot breath fanning on your face, his lips curving into a smile. Fuck, he is everything. 

“Chenle! Fuck… ah!” you cum for him. 

“Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes,” he repeats as a broken record as he pulls out and cums letting out a high-pitched moan that you will remember for the rest of your life. 

Chenle kisses your face, your hands, and helps you clean up. However, you didn’t exchange a word then. Now, you find yourselves back in bed, still naked. His arm around your waist, your head on his chest. His heartbeat is a love poem itself. 

“You know,” he breaks the silence. “I don’t ever want to say hello or leave without kissing you… I guess what I’m trying to say is–” 

You kiss him. It’s a long kiss, your lips pressed against his. Everything feels just right like it’s meant to be. 

“I really like you, Chenle,” you whisper, somewhat scared of what he will say back. 

“I really really like you too, silly,” he smiles. 

————————————————————-

a/n: this is pure ✨fiction✨

I hope enjoyed this :3 ~ masterlist

[moodymisty]

Author’s note: This entire idea belongs to @bispecsual , who snapped my ass like Thanos with it at 3am. My eyes might’ve been burning, but I saw the light with this message.

Relationships: unnamed Lamenter/Gn!Reader

Warnings: You could say it’s a lilllll lewd, Blood/vampire kink stuff, Bruising

He looks so large even without his armor. He’s managed to find a moment of time to spend with you now that his round of duty is over, though he had to wake you up to do it. You don’t mind, but you can tell in his face that there’s something gnawing at him.

“You’re hungry,” You suddenly blurt out, looking up at him. He looks at you and his eyebrows raise with surprise, but he doesn’t deny it. He looks away briefly when you offer yourself once again.

“I’ve waited longer, I won’t so soon after the last time.”

You shift under the blankets to look more towards him.

“You don’t have to wait, it’s fine.”

He’s beating himself up in his head, you can tell. Berating his lack of restraint. You know from experience he fights it until he’s right at the edge of the cliff, and only then does he dare to ask. But you feel fine, and helping him is the least you can do. The Lamenters have done so much for you; He’s done so much for you.

“I’m fine. If you need it, take it.”

It seems the battle in his mind only concludes with your gentle insistence, and he moves closer to you. You watch as he slowly crawls onto the bed and his hand presses down by your shoulder. His gaze is intense and you can’t help but look away, exposing your neck at the same time.

He can see the little marks where he bit the last time, on their last few days of healing. As he leans in his hot breath brushes over them, as does his lips. He hesitates for a moment, and you think he might pull away, before he finally sinks his teeth in right below your ear.

The blanket shifts up your bare legs to your hips as your legs kick, landing just below your underwear. His knee presses down between your thighs precariously close to their apex.

His teeth shift in your neck and your fingers tighten on his shoulder from the twinge of pain, but his weight holds your upper body completely still. He doesn’t want you to move even an inch and risk hurting you.

You swear you can hear his hearts, his tongue lapping against your neck and wiping away the tiny beads of blood before he moves to bite again at your collarbone.

It tastes incredible. He’s been starving, his last mission ran him ragged, in his armor for 2 weeks with barely any rest, and your blood is like the finest wine. He’s never tasted wine, but he supposes must taste incredible, as your tone of voice had implied.

His eyes want to close, he wants to get lost in its but he knows he has to stop. It’s still so soon after the last time he bit you, he know he can only take enough to satisfy him for now. So that gnawing can finally get shoved to the back of his mind just for a little while.

You’ve already been so generous, he doesn’t want to wear it out. To take advantage of your rare kindness. He pulls away sees the bruising wounds of your neck, as he glances down at your inner thigh. He sees the fading marks of bites there, where he thought they’d cause you less pain. It caused something else however, and he vows not to do so again unless he can fulfill you afterwards.

He slowly lowers again until his head lays against your chest. Your fingers wrap in the short, messy chop of his hair. Your eyes are closed, but you still talk to him.

“I’m fine,” You whisper, knowing why he’s doing this. The assurance that you’re still alive and well. That he didn’t go too far this time. But sometimes you wonder if he’s becoming unhealthily attached to you. He depends on you in a way oddly enough; With his curse gnawing at him like a never-ending sickness. He’s implied before that his superiors might do something about it if he can’t keep it under control. If this saves him, then you’ll do whatever you can to protect him mentally while he physically protects you.

Because you’re the only thing that cures him; Your blood satiates the hunger and your presence makes him feel alive. The warmth of your skin against his own. The sound of your heartbeat fills him with relief that you’re fine, he didn’t lose himself for a moment.

“How can I repay you for your kindness?” He speaks quietly. You laugh.

“You don’t have to do anything.” He leans close to you and you can feel his nose barely brush against your own.

“I should. There are not many who would willingly give their blood to feed the Red Thirst.” You smile and your hand lands on the scarred skin of his arm.

“I don’t mind, as long as it’s you.”

A brief moment crosses his mind at the idea of another Lamenter biting your neck- of being this close to you. His hand clenches just a bit before he swallows that feeling of rage and leans just that little bit closer to you, pressing his lips to yours.

You lean into him, ignoring the ache in your neck and tasting iron on his lips.

[beenbaanbuun]

Bad Day with Choi Jongho

words - don’t know (whoops!)

genre - fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings - chubby!reader, brief mentions of unhealthy eating habits, jongho is soft, reader is hopelessly in love, sad!reader, nicknames (baby, loser)

not proof read bc i’m lazy <3

coming home to an empty apartment after a bad day always sucks

the breakfast pots in the sink taunt you, and the thought of cleaning them up makes you want to slam your head through a brick wall

so you usually leave them, knowing that when you finally find the effort to cook yourself dinner, the pile would just get bigger

although when you feel like this, the likelihood of cooking a proper meal was slim

normally you settle for tinned ravioli warmed in the microwave

it tastes bad and it never stays warm for long, but its quick and easy and that’s what you need sometimes

but one day when you come home you notice your boyfriend’s mercedes parked right outside, and your can’t help the little flutter that your heart does

you practically run through the lobby, up the stairs (you can’t wait for an elevator when you know who’s waiting for you in your apartment) and swing the front door open

and the slam of the door against the wall makes jongho jump, splashing water on himself from your pots hes busy washing

he spins round to stare at you with a look of surprise

“you’re home, baby,” he smiles, wiping his wet hands on his now already wet jumper and giving you a soft smile, “i wasn’t expecting you so early.”

“jongho,” you whimper, bottom lip quivering as you shuffle over to where he’s stood waiting

it takes mere seconds for him to open his arms up to invite you into his warm embrace, and you practically launch yourself into his grip

and he’s warm and soft as he holds you close to him and presses his cheek to the top of your head

“oh, my baby,” his fingers brush an intricate pattern over your back as he lets you sue him for your comfort, “what happened?”

“bad day,” you grumble against his chest, “tried to put my favourite trousers on this morning but they didn’t fit and i just…”

you trail off, but jongho gets the gist of it

“fuck those trousers,” he grumbles into your hair, “making my baby feel shitty about something as natural as putting on weight…”

he lowers a hand to rest it against your soft waist, squeezing the flesh lightly

“how dare they make you feel so awful when i love you and your body so fucking much…”

he presses a kiss to your head

“your tummy, your waist, your thighs…” he squeezes you tightly, “i just think you’re the most beautiful person alive!”

and your giggles as he compliments are like music to his ears

so he continues, brushing his hands against anything he can get hold of as he whispers everything he loves about your body into your ears

your cheeks, back, arms, butt… anything is on the table for jongho

he just loves showering you with compliments when you pay him back with your sweet sounds and pretty blushes

“and your hands, baby,” he laced his fingers with yours, “your little fingers interlock with mine s-”

you cut him off with a soft kiss

it’s gentle, and it only lasts a few seconds, but it’s long enough to shut him up

“shut up, loser,” you joke as you pull back, “don’t overdo it!”

he throws his head back as he laughs

“overdo it? am i not allowed to make my baby feel better?” he pecks you on the corner of the mouth

“you are, but now you’re just making me blush…”

you know he doesn’t care

jongho lives to make you blush

you stand there in one another’s embrace for a while, and by the time you separate, the water on his jumper has dried up completely

it sinks in just how long he’d been stood comforting you, and you couldn’t help the butterflies that erupted in your stomach at how much you loved him

because not only had he come over unannounced to spend time with you, but he’d also decided to wash your dirty dishes that he knew would be left there for days if he didn’t, and he’d been more than happy to drop that task in favour of comforting your bad mood

and whilst you knew that you loved him, it was at that moment that it sank in just how much you loved him

his aloof personality that he was willing to drop in seconds to reveal his soft centre

his gentle kisses and pretty words that he gave you daily like a mantra he needed to repeat

his plush lips that drew back to reveal the most beautiful gummy smile you’d ever seen before in your life

his soft clothes and fluffy hair that always smelled so enticing that his warm cuddles were impossible to resist

fuck, you were so in love…

so you stood and stared as he finished your dishes, wondering if it was possible for you to be any more in love than you are right now

right now, it felt like no, but you knew the moment you woke up to pouty lips, you’d fall just a little more

“i love you, y’know…”

he looks over to you with a cocked brow

“i do know,” he replies, a smirk gracing his face when you pout, “i love you too, baby.”

“you do?” you goad him

“i wouldn’t have come here to clean your apartment while you were at work if i didn’t love you,” he chuckles, “wanted to surprise you, and i can guarantee that wouldn’t have even crossed my mind if i didn’t love you to the moon and back.”

you smile at him

“and i definitely wouldn’t have let you cover my jumper with your snot and tears if i wasn’t hopelessly in love with you…”

your smile fell

“jongho!” he just laughs, “i wasn’t even crying!”

he just chuckles to himself, leaning closer to kiss you

“love you, baby.”

[yes-divine-ruler]

(18+!) Also can’t stop thinking about… Jimmy being drunk and a munch for you, the contortionist reader

“Do that thing again,” Jimmy’s hands are grappling at the back of your thighs, keeping himself up right. Your legs fold and bend backwards, your head tucked securely between your knees. Jimmy mumbles something incoherent, his hands caressing the expanse of your thighs. You mewl under him, the sensation of his rough palms against your soft, subtle skin clouding your mind one stroke at a time. “How do you do that?” Jimmy asks softly, his face lowering down towards the apex of your thighs, his warm breath fanning your pulsing heat. “Practice? I guess,” you laugh at him as he stumbles, and you almost unfold yourself to help him before he stops you. “No. Stay like that, fuck, my god,” Jimmy can feel the pain of his hard cock ramming against the zipper of his jeans through his boxers. “Why?” You ask skeptically, the response you receive much more than what you expected. Jimmy tugs at the part of your leotard that clips between your legs, so hard that one delicate button scatters across the floor of the trailer. You gasp for air, “what? Jimmy! Stop!” watching in shock as Jimmy rips your panties down the middle. Finally, exposing your dripping cunt to his hungry, drunken eyes. He dives in almost immediately, slurping at your arousal as it drips down towards your clit. Flat on your back and locked in by your own legs, all you can do is watch in awe as he nudges his nose up against your sensitive bundle of nerves. His tongue dips, swirling to explore your pulsing walls. “J-Jimmy! Oh my god!” You yelp with a mix of surprise and pleasure as Jimmy stretches you open with his fingers, splitting you down the middle the same way he did with your panties. His tongue teases your clit, sometimes sucking it into his mouth, sometimes only tickling it with the tip of his tongue. Jimmy’s fingers sink inside you ‘til the last knuckle. He curls his fingers upwards, pressing the soft spot that swells to his touch. “Thereeee it is, i gotchu baby,” Jimmy slurs against your cunt as you quiver beneath him, feeling so full, stretched out and stimulated. He has you right on the brink as his pace slows. He spends a moment basking in the moment, twirling a piece of hair by your face, wet with perspiration. “I’m almost there Jimmy, please!” You whine, your jaw so clenched that you begin to grind your teeth in anticipation. Jimmy sighs, deeply, now seeing two of you but adamant to get the job done. His fingertips dig at your sweet spot again, and his tongue lazily circles your clit. Just like that you come undone, dripping with arousal as you squeeze tight around his digits, your clit pulsing under his tongue. Jimmy moans against your pussy, retracting his fingers and forcing them between your parted lips. You suck on them diligently, the taste of yourself absorbed by your taste buds. “Gotta get my cock between those pretty lips,” Jimmy utters, stumbling back again and unzipping his pants, “both sets of ‘em.”

[pali-writes-atiny-bit]

Wow

Pairing: Han Jisung x afab!reader, Idol!Jisung x Manager!reader (Y/N is used)

Summary: Based on a request. Plot with eventual smut. Y/N graduated from University and moved to Seoul hoping to get a translator job with an entertainment company. Instead, she gets a job as one of the managers for Stray Kids and maybe something more. 

WC: 8.62k

Content Warning: Intended for 18+ mature audiences. MDNI! Brief anxiety/panic attack, masturbation (m and f), mutual pining, noona as a pet name, fingering (f rec), nipple play, swearing, unprotected piv (please be responsible for yourselves). Let me know if I missed anything else.

You're different from when we first met, I'm curious of you The mood you give off completely changed, I'm curious of you I can’t understand how I feel, mysterious of you With the gaze you give me, let me say "Wow" (Got me trippin’ like) Wow, wow, completely changed your vibe (Got me trippin' like) Wow, wow, wow I wanna be on your mind (Got me trippin’ like) Wow, wow, so I can approach you I want to know how you feel, bang bang (Got me trippin' like)

Han first sees you as you’re walking into the cafe near JYP that he frequents. When you open the door, early morning sun is shining directly behind you, lighting up the top of your head like a halo. As soon as he sets his eyes on you, the rest of the world seems to fall away and his heart stutters a few beats. After you step in and the door swings shut behind you, he’s able to see you clearly. 

Your hair falls past your shoulders in soft waves. You’re wearing a black turtleneck and a plaid pinafore dress with black knee high boots. The dress hugs your chest before flaring out into a flowing skirt that ends mid thigh. He watches as you order a vanilla latte and an almond croissant before sitting at a table and pulling out a planner.

Even from first sight, he feels an instant gravitation towards you. He’d love to stay and get to know you, but his drink order is being called. Unfortunately, the rest of the boys are waiting for him to come back to the dorms with their drinks. As he leaves the cafe, he glances at you again. He can’t help but hope he’ll see you again. 

You’ve just moved here on Friday after graduating university. Spending your first couple of days unpacking, you’ve had very little time to explore your surroundings. The halmeoni who greeted you when you first moved in mentioned a nearby cafe serving some of the best coffee and pastries around. And so on Monday morning you find yourself briskly walking the couple of blocks to the cafe. 

You’ve put on one of your favorite dresses and boots but forewent a jacket. A decision you are now regretting hence the brisk walk. After a few minutes you reach the cafe and open the door. You step in and call out a polite greeting to the baristas at the front. You quickly browse their menu board before deciding on a vanilla latte to warm you up and a flaky almond croissant. 

After placing your order, you find a small table by the window and take a seat. You pull out your planner and your laptop to begin checking your emails. Before moving here you sent out applications to many different companies. You got a degree in linguistics with a minor in music. Right now your dream is to work as an interpreter/translator for one of the big entertainment companies here in Seoul, but you’ll take what you can get. 

Your latte and croissant arrive just as you’re opening up your email. You take a sip of the warm drink as you sift through your inbox. Your spirits sink as you find the emails in your inbox are only spam. You subconsciously worry your lower lip. You have enough savings for a couple of months here in Seoul, but you’ve left everything you’ve ever known behind - not that there was anything left for you there. You didn’t have any family, or friends you could fall back on, and certainly no significant other. In other words, you really needed a job.

You take a bite of the croissant while you fill out some more job applications. The croissant is deliciously flaky and nutty from the almond. After the first bite you end up spending a couple of hours filling out applications while your latte and croissant end up forgotten on the side. You finish up and stretch your arms above your head before drinking the rest of your latte and croissant while watching passersby out the window. 

You decide that you really like this cafe. You’ll definitely be back. 

You don’t have time to go back to the cafe until the weekend. 

You’ve been busy. You bought furniture to make your apartment feel more like a home. You went out and bought a few more professional pieces of clothing, for when you finally get an interview. The rest of the time you spent sending out applications and reaching out to contacts to develop a network. 

On Saturday morning you wake up around 9. After stretching with a big yawn, you decide that a hot coffee and a pastry would make a perfect start to your weekend. You dress comfortably with a coordinating gray hoodie and jogger set and pile your hair up in a messy bun. The last thing you add to your outfit is your over-the-ear headphones.

You put on your favorite playlist of kpop hits and leave your apartment. It’s a beautiful sunny day, and you smile to yourself as you walk down the street. You’re jamming out to your music and unlike the last time you made this walk, you take your time.

When you walk into the cafe, you’re dancing in tiny to God’s Menu. You’re so engrossed in the music, head bobbing along to the beat, you don’t notice the group of 8 boys sitting in the corner. You don’t notice how they turned to look at you when the door chimed.And you certainly don’t notice how a few of them stifle a chuckle as they recognize the dance you’re doing. 

Han immediately recognizes you - how could he not when you’re all he’s been thinking about. you’ve been plaguing his thoughts since he saw you on Monday. When he got back to the dorms, he couldn't stop raving about the most beautiful woman he thinks he's ever seen. 

Even wearing sweatpants, as you are today, he thinks that that's true. What's even more beautiful is the way you're smiling as you dance to his song, their song. Is it fate that you listen to their music?

The thought that the woman of his dreams might be their fan, a Stay, has his heartbeat picking up and a faint  blush creeping up his neck. His reaction doesn’t go unnoticed by either Chan or Minho, and they give him a look.

He gulps and mutters, “that's her. She's who I saw on Monday.” 

The other members hear his statement and take a closer look. ‘She is beautiful,’ they all think, agreeing with his assessment. 

When the song finishes, you pause your playlist and slip your headphones down to hang around your neck. Their eyes follow you as you order the same vanilla latte as on Monday with another croissant, chocolate this time. They continue to follow you as you retrieve your latte and select a seat near the windows. 

It isn’t until you settle into your seat, that you finally feel the weight of their gazes. You slowly turn your head towards the corner and meet the gaze of 8 men. Your eyes widen in surprise as you take in their faces. Although some of the members are wearing masks, you still recognize them easily, how could you not when you’ve watched so many of their lives. When you’ve listened to their music on repeat, letting it anchor you to the world as you struggled through uni alone. 

You were told that this cafe was close to JYPE, but you are still surprised to see them here. You give them a bright smile and a little wave. And then you remember what you were doing as you walked into the cafe. Certain that they watched your stupid little dance you flush a deep pink. You hide your face in your hands and quickly turn away. You spend the rest of your time gazing out the window, pointedly not looking back toward the corner. 

For some reason, your smile thrilled each of the members. But when you flushed and looked away they all felt bad. None of them meant for you to feel embarrassed. After all, your dance had been cute and they were the ones caught staring. Nevertheless, they stopped watching you and resumed talking amongst themselves. All except Han, who couldn’t help but sneak peeks at you. He’s so curious of you. 

Over the next month you become a frequent presence at the cafe. You still haven’t found a full time job which worries you, but you were able to pick up some freelance translation work for the time being. You often work from the cafe, spending hours there at a time. In doing so, you get to know several of the baristas there. When you come in, they greet you by name, and if it isn’t busy, you often spend a few minutes chatting. 

Han sees you there often. Sometimes he’s there first and sometimes you’re already seated at your favorite spot by the window. Although he is often accompanied by another member or two, he also finds himself going by himself more often hoping to see you. When he’s alone, he allows himself to observe you in a way he doesn’t with the other members. He studies your little facial expressions - the way you bob your head to whatever song you’re listening to. The way you chew on your lower lip when you’re thinking. It’s during one of these visits that he learns your name is Y/N. 

It’s mysterious the way your simple existence has utterly captivated him. He’s so curious of you. He can’t help the way he wants to talk to you and get to know you. He wants to be on your mind the same way that you’re on his. He simply wants you. But, he’s an idol and relationships aren’t so easy, so while he pines after you he 

channels all his thoughts and desires into lyrics.  

It’s been a couple of weeks since Han has seen you last. He’s worried about you. You had been coming less frequently, and the last time he saw you, you had dark bags under your eyes, and your lower lip was thoroughly raw and chapped. You looked ill.  

It’s safe to say that when he finally sees you again, he’s relieved. He’s arrived at the cafe just after you, you’re standing in line just a few places ahead. You look good - you look healthy. 

You’re dressed in a striking three-piece pantsuit. It accents both your waist and your curves. It’s professional but also flatteringly feminine. He can't help the way his eyes roam up and down your body. He can't help the way they linger on the swell of your ass. The outfit suits you exceptionally well. 

Han watches as you reach the counter and greet the barista by name. You order your customary vanilla latte to-go and move to the waiting area. His lips form a pout when he realizes that means you won't be sitting down. Where is she going looking like that, he wonders. 

When it's his turn at the counter, he orders two iced Americanos and a smoothie for Chan, and moves to stand next to you at the drink receiving area. He studies you closer. 

Your hair is neatly pulled back into a ponytail. Round wire-framed glasses sit atop your nose giving you a very studious look. He can see a few freckles dusting your cheek bones. Your lips are pink and full and look so soft, not nearly as chapped as the last time he saw you.  He’s standing close enough to you that he can lightly smell your perfume. It’s a floral jasmine mix with a hint of musky amber and bergamot. It’s heady but not heavy. It’s intoxicating. 

He is startled out of his thoughts, his thoughts about you, when both of your drink orders are called. You grab your drink and head for the door. By the time he grabs his drinks and places them in a carrier, you’ve disappeared onto the street. 

You had stopped going to the cafe after about a month because you still hadn’t received any interviews or job offers. The freelance work you were able to pick up was barely enough to cover your rent. You were no longer confident in your decision to move here. You were stressed and alone and it was wearing on your health. 

Then one Thursday afternoon you received a call from an unknown number. 

“Yeoboseyo? Is this Miss Y/N? I'm calling from JYP Entertainment regarding the Interpreter position you applied for. Are you available for an interview tomorrow?”

You were shocked. JYP Entertainment was just one of the many companies that you applied to and since they were one of the big names, you didn’t really expect to hear back from them. And yet they were the first company to reach out to you. You could barely contain your excitement while you responded “Yes, I'm Y/N. Thank you. I would love to come in for an interview!” You briefly discussed the details and ended the call with an interview scheduled for 8 am the following morning.

That was how you found yourself standing in front of the JYP Entertainment building, at 7:50 am with your latte in hand. You are thankful that the company is close to the cafe because you’re gripping the cup like it’s your lifeline. Maybe in a way it is - the warm drink in your hand is comforting. You take a deep grounding breath before entering the building and announcing yourself at the front desk.

After a few minutes you are escorted up to one of the meeting rooms on the upper floors. Inside, seated at a conference table, is Park Jin Young, JYP himself, along with another woman. Placing your cup down, you bow at 90 degrees and greet them both. 

“Hello. My name is Y/N L/N. It's nice to meet you!!”

“Hello, Miss Y/N. Thank you for agreeing to meet us today. Please sit,” he gestures toward a seat opposite him and then glances down at the papers on the table in front of him. “I see that you applied to be one of our interpreters for English and/or Japanese.”

“Yes sir, that is correct,” you respond as you take a seat. 

“You have quite an impressive resume here. I have one of our Japanese speakers with me to test your conversational skills, if you don't mind.”

“I don't mind,” you respond in Korean before easily transitioning to Japanese. You first re-introduce yourself before falling into an easy conversation with the other employee. You talk about some of the professional aspects of the job before moving on to some more personal details, like pets and hobbies. After about 10 minutes of conversing, the other employee ends the conversation and nods to JYP. 

“Very good, Miss Y/N. Your conversational skills appear to be more than adequate. I think you would be a great addition to our team of interpreters. However,” he says before pausing. 

Your heart which was beginning to swell with excitement faltered as you waited for him to continue. Your thoughts raced ahead - what wasn’t good enough?

“With your minor in music theory and production I think you may actually be better qualified for one of our new artist manager positions.”

Wait, what? You can’t help the way your mouth falls open in shock.

“With Stray Kids’ growing popularity and global presence we want to expand their management team for better support. You are proficient in Korean, Japanese, and English which is a great asset for travel and international interviews. With your music education you can also assist with production and recording if necessary,” JYP finishes explaining with a smile. 

At some point during the explanation you managed to close your mouth and reign in your shock. You take a drink of your latte before speaking. 

“This sounds like an amazing opportunity, sir…” you pause as something occurs to you. “I’d also like to be upfront with the fact that I am a Stay. I've been following Stray Kids since their debut. Will that be a problem, sir?”

JYP chuckles a little before responding. “In this case I think it's actually a benefit. If you’ve been watching them since the beginning, you're familiar with their dynamics and their music.” 

He hands you a manila folder. “Here is our job offer and some other minor legal documents. I understand if you need some time to think this over, but we'd really like to onboard you as early as next week.”

You smile as you accept the folder. You take a moment to adjust your glasses before beginning to read the contents. You take your time to thoroughly examine the documents. The first page is the job offer itself which states your responsibilities as a manager. You are surprised to see that the salary is quite a bit higher than you could have anticipated. Another document  details the benefits offered by JYPE. There is also a Non-disclosure Agreement which, if you're going to be working with idols like Stray Kids, is unsurprising.

After taking nearly half an hour to inspect the contents, you look up from the folder with a satisfied smile. You reach for a pen and sign the job offer acceptance before sliding it across the table. 

“Thank you, sir. This is a very generous offer and I am honored to accept.” 

He claps his hands again with a smile. “Wonderful news! We'd like to onboard you and introduce you to the team as soon as possible,” he says before glancing at this watch. “Unfortunately, it’s a bit short notice to do that today. Would you be available to come back to meet everyone tomorrow around noon?”

“Yes, of course. I look forward to it” you say.

The three of you stand from your seats and he says, “I believe our meeting for today has concluded then. Welcome to the team!”

You bow again and say “Thank you. Goodbye and please stay well!”

After seeing you again at the cafe, Jisung can't get you off his mind. You looked and smelled exquisite. He wants to get to know you so badly - he wants to know who you are and what you like and dislike. 

When he entered the company earlier, he thought he saw someone who looked like you waiting at the front desk. But he was already running late to meet the others so he couldn’t take a closer look. The rest of the day and week are packed with schedules and he promptly forgets about it. 

That evening Chan gathers everyone together and announces that a new artist manager is being added to their entourage. You will be introduced to all of them tomorrow. He explains that you will be around to assist with their day to day activities, music product, and will be one of their main managers for international tours and events. 

The next day you wake up mid-morning after taking yourself out to dinner to celebrate last night. It was kind of depressing celebrating by yourself, but you made do. You might have drank a bit more than you meant to as a result, hence the late start. 

You don't have too much time before meeting Stray Kids, so you drag yourself out of bed and head to the shower to start your day. You dress in stockings, a black silk sleeveless blouse, and houndstooth pencil skirt with a matching blazer. You leave your hair in its natural waves but pull half of it back with a clip. You move through your skincare routine before carefully putting some makeup on. You don’t always wear it, but first impressions matter to you. Especially first impressions with your idols.

By the time you finish getting ready, you only have about half an hour. You decide that you will get a coffee at the cafe and grab an assortment of pastries to share with the members. So, you slip on some heeled boots and head out the door.

At the cafe, you order your usual vanilla latte, iced this time, and a selection of croissants, muffins, and little coffee cakes. The barista carefully places all the items in a pastry box and hands it over. You carefully balance your coffee in one hand and the box in the other and head towards JYPE. 

You can’t help but be nervous as you walk down the street. You never expected to be an artist manager for any group, let alone for a big group like Stray Kids. What if they don’t like you? What if you’re not good enough? So many “what ifs” circle your mind. 

Like the day before, when you reach JYPE you check in at the front desk and are asked to wait a few minutes for someone to come down and escort you. You are not surprised when it is Bang Chan himself who comes to get you. 

He, on the other hand, is quite surprised when he sees you. He didn’t expect their new artist manager to be someone so young, or so beautiful. He can’t help the way his eyes flick up and down your body appreciatively before stopping at your face. He’s seen your face before. 

His eyes widen ever so slightly when he realizes where he’s seen your face before. He saw you at the cafe a few times. You were the one who was dancing to God's Menu. The one that caught the eye of every single one of his members, especially Han’s. Shit. Is Han gonna freak out?

While awkwardly holding the pastry box in one hand and your coffee in the other you manage to bow and say “Hello. It’s nice to meet you!”

“Hello,” Chan says with a warm smile before holding out his hands, “please allow me.”

Despite your protests that you can manage just fine, he takes the pastry box from you and gestures for you to follow after him. He leads you upstairs silently. Although you just met, the silence feels comfortable, more friendly than awkward. 

He stops outside.a practice room. Even through the door, you can hear the rowdiness that awaits in the room. Chan gives you a sheepish smile, “they can be a little crazy, but they mean well. Are you ready?”

You nod your head and he knocks before opening the door and walking in.

Chan left him and the others in their practice room to go get their new manager from the front desk about 10 minutes ago. Since then, his leg has been bouncing up and down while he picks at the cuticles of his fingers. 

His anxiety ticks higher and higher the longer he waits. He doesn't like meeting new people and he doesn't particularly understand why they need a new manager. His thoughts are only interrupted when Minho places a hand on his leg - comforting him, reassuring him.

He takes a deep breath when there is a knock on the door. He looks up when it opens. Chan walks in and locks eyes with him before stepping to the side to allow the new manager to come in. 

His mouth falls open when he sees that it's you. He’s been thinking of you - pining after you - for weeks and now here you are. 

How mysterious of you.

You follow Bang Chan into the room. They all line up before you. You bow politely and introduce yourself, “Hello. My name is Y/N and I look forward to working with you all.”

The boys line up to give their traditional greeting, “Hana, dul, Step Out! Hello, we are Stray Kids!” They all bow in unison before each member steps forward to introduce themselves individually.

“Hi I’m Bang Chan, Chan, or Chris.”

“I’m Lee Know or Minho.”

“Seo Changbin!”

“I’m Hwang Hyunjin.”

When it gets to Han, his brain simply short-circuits. “I- I- I’m…” he stutters. He flushes in embarrassment and his breathing picks up. “I can’t do this,” he mumbles and runs out of the room past you. 

Everyone stands still in shock and there is a heavy moment of silence before Minho excuses himself and follows after him. You can’t help but wonder if you said or did something wrong. 

Felix is the first to break the silence with his deep voice. “I’m Lee Felix, or Yongbok. That was Han Jisung - he can, uh, get very anxious meeting new people. I'm sure he'll be back in a few.” He smiles at you reassuringly. 

Seungmin scoffs lightly. “I guess we're just continuing on then. I’m Kim Seungmin.” 

Jeongin introduces himself last, with his signature fox-eyed smile. “Hi Noona! I’m I.N. or Jeongin. I look forward to working with you.”

With introductions complete, Chan holds up the box and says “Y/N was kind enough to bring us some treats from the cafe! Please enjoy them and get to know her a little. I’m going to go check on Minho and Jisung.”

Chan finds both of his missing members in their recording studio where Jisung is crouched in the corner, clearly in distress. He’s grabbing his hair with both fists and his eyes are red-rimmed when he looks up. “Hyungs! What do I do?” he wails. “I’ve made such a fool of myself in front of her. I was just anxious, what if she thinks I hate her?”

Chan crouches down next to him and pats his head. “She doesn’t think that, Sungie. Felix told her you have trouble meeting new people sometimes.”

“Of all people, why did our new manager have to be her?” he moans. “I’ve been thinking of her for weeks! It's so embarrassing” he whines. “She’s literally the girl of my dreams. How can I even face her now?”

Chan shares a knowing look with Minho before standing up and offering a hand to help him up. “Let’s start by going back and saying hi. Everything else can come after.” 

After Chan leaves the practice room to find Minho and Jisung, you take a seat with the remaining members. They all thank you for the pastries and help themselves while you sip your coffee. 

Just a few minutes later, the door to the practice room opens and Chan, Minho, and Han enter. Han gives you a sheepish, lopsided smile and bows. “Hello, I'm Han Jisung. I- I'm sorry about earlier.” He rubs the back of his neck, “I, uh, got overwhelmed… and embarrassed...” he trails off with an awkward chuckle. 

“It's nice to meet you, Han,” you smile at him reassuringly. You definitely understand being overwhelmed and embarrassed. “Would you all like to hear a bit about me?” you ask, looking around at all the others. 

They all nod, so you begin with your love of music and how the Kpop scene had caught both your eyes and ears as a teen. Inspired, you made it your dream to come here to Seoul. Although you are a native English speaker, you developed a passion for languages over time. With your main focus on Korean and Japanese, you explain how you originally wanted to be an Interpreter. Hearing this, Felix is excited to talk to another native English speaker and Minho asks to practice his Japanese with you. 

Chan asks you how long you’ve been here in Seoul. You say you’ve only been here for a couple months. You graduated from Uni and immediately moved across the world by yourself. You mention how you haven’t really had the time to explore the city, but you frequent the cafe nearby. Several members notice how you smile a bit wistfully as you think about how hard you had to work, and how hard it's been by yourself. 

The wistfulness dissipates as you casually mention that you’ve been a Stay since their debut. Describing how you find solace in their music and let it ground through some of the tougher times. You fix your eyes to the ground, not wanting to see their reactions. You can barely believe you have been given this opportunity. While you're excited to work with them, you're immensely embarrassed by how much information you just shared. 

You mingle with the members for about half an hour. For their part, the boys are impressed with how hard you've clearly worked to get here. They're all welcoming, and eager to ask you various questions. They all feel an urge to protect you. 

While Han doesn't really contribute to the conversation, you often find his eyes on you. You won’t ever have to be alone again, Y/N, he thinks. 

The boys, as you refer to them collectively, eventually had to actually start dance practice. Chan kindly welcomed you to stay and watch, so you did. It was simply incredible to witness the passion and dedication of each member up close. You were fascinated by the strength and precision with which they move their bodies. 

That night your thoughts are as plagued with Jisung as his are with you. You lay awake staring at the ceiling. Your thoughts drifting to the way you kept finding Han’s soft brown eyes on you throughout your meeting. Even during their dance practice, he had looked at you - you had met his eyes in the mirror several times. 

Thinking about his gaze now makes your skin heat. Your eyes flutter shut as you think about how good he looked - how tiny his waist looked as he moved. Your breathing hitches as you think of how his hips turned and rolled with their dance moves. Your body heats further as your thoughts spiral.   

You’re feeling desperate. You haven’t been touched in so long - by either your hands or another’s. Fueled by your thoughts of Jisung, you begin thumbing over a nipple while the hand other snakes down your body to slide into your sleep shorts. You can already feel some wetness seeping out.

You slide a finger through your folds to gather your slick before lightly circling your clit. You lightly pinch and roll your nipple - imagining it's Han’s mouth. A soft moan falls from your mouth. Pleasure pools at your center and ripples outward as you rub faster.

Imagining his fingers, you dip your own into your core. First one, then two fingers stroking - sliding in and out. Every so often, you return to your clit. Strumming yourself higher, tension coiling inside you. 

Your free hand pinches and pulls at your nipples. Eventually you sink three fingers into yourself, desperately seeking the stretch your pussy aches for. You stroke your fingers faster until you finally find your release, legs tensing as the pleasure coiled inside you unwinds. Your walls clench and pulse around your fingers.

As you come down from your high “Jisung” falls from your lips in a whisper.

Later, you'll feel guilty. He's an idol and you're his manager. And what you just did was inappropriate. 

But right now you feel sated for the first time in a long time. You manage to get to the bathroom to clean yourself up before relaxing into the covers. Sleep comes to you quickly now.

You’re on Han’s mind more than ever. Now you’re more than “the girl at the cafe.” He met you and talked to you. You’re intelligent, passionate about music (their music) and oh so fucking beautiful. Since dance practice ended Jisung has been holed up in his room scribbling lyrics nonstop. 

He finishes his lyrics in the middle of the night, runs to Chan’s room and bangs open the door. “Channie hyung!” he exclaims. “I wrote a song but I want your help making a beat.” He hands him his scribbled lyrics. “It’s a sexy concept.”

Chan hums and nods while he reads the lyrics. When he finishes he asks “this song is about Y/Nie?” 

“Mhm,” he hums affirmatively. 

“You’re down bad, Sungie,” Chan teases.

He flushes and groans, flopping onto Chan’s bed. “I know.”

The room falls silent save for Chan’s clicking as he samples different beats for the track. Although he is the one who asked for help, Han has mostly fallen asleep on Chan’s bed when he speaks up. 

“You’ll have to be careful, you know? I won’t stop you from pursuing her, but be careful.”

Your first few weeks as a manager for Stray Kids are busy but uneventful. Your day to day activities vary from learning to manage the kids schedules to sitting in on their studio or dance practice sessions. 

Everyone, at a minimum, is welcoming and polite to you. Some of the members, like Minho, Seungmin, and Jeongin are more aloof. They greet you, and answer any questions you might have, but don't go out of the way to interact with you. 

Chan, Changbin, and Hyunjin are pretty neutral towards you. Friendly but strictly professional. Chan is usually stressed and almost always in leader or producer mode. Changbin is friendly but if he's not in the studio or at dance practice, he's usually in the gym. And Hyunjin gravitates more towards his art or dance than you. 

On the other hand Lix and Ji, as you have begun to call Felix and Jisung, warmed up to you immediately. You understand why Stays call them the sunshine twins. Their contagious energy is bright and playful. They are generally found trying to make you laugh or being physically affectionate. They also never hesitated to call you noona, even though you didn't ask them to.

Jisung, especially, seems to find reasons to be around you. One day he brought you a vanilla latte and croissant from the cafe when he went out to get drinks for the rest of 3racha. You were so surprised he knew your favorite order and you flashed him your brightest smile. Since then you often find little treats or drinks at your desk. 

Whenever you are in the same room together - and you are often in the same room whether the studio or the practice room - you feel the weight of his gaze. You know it should make you uncomfortable, you're his manager, but you find it does the opposite.

Under his gaze your body heats and desire pools low in your belly. You find yourself thinking of him in inappropriate ways - imagining his fingers sliding over your body instead of his eyes. Imagining the coolness of his rings against your heated flesh. Your mind often gets the better of you and you find yourself subtly squeezing your thighs together in an effort to find release. 

You often return home to your apartment with wet panties and a knot in your stomach of pent up sexual frustration. You frequently give in to your fantasies, bringing yourself to climax in the shower, in the bath, in your bed. Imagining that the fingers stroking through your folds, sinking inside your pussy are his instead of yours. 

It is much the same for Han. 

The time he spends around you in the studio and practice room is agonizing. His eyes are on you constantly - studying your body, your mannerisms, your reactions. He learns early on that you're very expressive. He loves bringing you treats or drinks just to see your smile light up the room. He loves cracking jokes and goofing around with the others just to hear you laugh.

The way you dress drives him crazy - each outfit highlights your body and its curve in the most tantalizing ways. They are always professional, even if they aren’t necessarily demure. On many occasions his thoughts drift away to daydreams of undressing you and worshiping at the temple that is your body. Usually he can control himself, on occasion he has had to excuse himself to the bathroom, hiding the tent that has formed in his pants.

In the bathroom, he pulls up his shirt, holding it between his teeth while he pulls down his pants freeing his leaking cock. He leans against the wall with one hand and spreads his precum around the head of his cock with the thumb of the other. His eyes squeeze shut as he slowly sinks his fist down his shaft. 

His breath hisses out around the shirt in his mouth. He strokes slowly once. Twice. Thrice. Biting back his moans he strokes faster and faster until it’s more efficient to fuck into his fist. He whines as his climax hits and he spills over his hand. 

Breathing hard, he releases his shirt from his mouth. There is a dark patch where his saliva has soaked into the cloth. As his breath slows, he cleans and tucks himself away. After washing his hands, he saunters back to the studio or practice room, wherever he excused himself from.

One day, you’re in the studio with Chan, Jisung, and Changbin. This wasn’t unusual - 3Racha frequently invited you into their studio to listen to their new tracks ever since your first week when you had helped them fix a track. You reflect on how you had thought you ruined it all.

You were sitting unobtrusively in the corner of their studio listening to them mix a beat. You knew they were talented but their skills still blew you away. However, they had been arguing about a particular section of the track for about 5 minutes before you blurted out a few off-hand suggestions.

You slapped your hand over your mouth in disbelief and they all turned to you in shock. Chan’s brow furrows and your heart sinks. There's a long moment of silence, broken when you say, “I'm sorry, that was out of line,” your voice wavering. 

Certain that you’ve ruined everything, tears form in the corners of your eyes. You’re not sure what you’re going to do but you need to get out of here. You stand, gathering your laptop, and beeline it for the door. Your hand is on the door handle when Chan finally speaks up. “Where are you going? Aren't you going to help us?”

Your thoughts are disrupted by Chan and Changbin standing up announcing they needed a break and were heading to the gym. That leaves you with Jisung. Alone. You miss the pointed look Chan gives Jisung as they head out the door. 

The door clicks shut behind Chan and Changbin leaving behind resounding silence. Jisung takes a deep inhale of your heady jasmine scent, which has slowly filled the small studio. With a soft but determined voice he speaks up. 

“Manager Y/N ssi, there’s a song I wanted to share with you. Will you listen?”

Intrigued, you nod and a few clicks later the sensual tones of Wow start playing. 

You’re drawn in first by the electro bass tone. You can feel it resonating with your body, in your body. You close your eyes to really focus on the music. You’re so engrossed in the song, you don’t even notice that Jisung has leaned over close to you until his breath fans against your ear. 

He whispers. “I bet you’re wondering who the song is about, noona - I can call you noona, right?” 

His breath tickles against your ear and you can't help the shiver that crawls down your spine, nor the goosebumps that spread over your skin. You can already feel your skin begin to flush just in response to his proximity. You discreetly press your thighs together as you feel a pulse of desire. You clear your throat but your voice betrays you and you can only nod.

“I wrote this for you, Noona. This is the way you make me feel - from the very first time I saw you to even now” His voice is soft and husky. His hand comes up to cup your chin, the cold metal of his rings a stark contrast to your flushed face. “You're so beautiful,” he croons. Still gripping your chin, he turns your head to face him. His half-lidded eyes meet yours, his pupils are blown wide with desire.

You gasp and close your own eyes as the pulse of desire grows to a steady thrum. Stifling a moan you press your thighs together again. His full lips curve into a smirk as he slides his other hand between your lush thighs. He squeezes a thigh gently before slowly sliding his hand higher. 

Your breath hitches and you can feel the arousal beginning to leak from you. He stops when his fingertips are just a hair's breadth from your black lacy panties. 

“Do you want this, noona? Do you want me? You can say no at any time.” His voice is lower. Desperate. 

“Please, Jisung,” you moan. “I want you. I want this.” And you do. Your panties have grown damp, and your clit already throbs with need. You shift your legs open to give him better access. “Please touch me.” 

The words barely pass your lips before his lips are crashing down on them. His lips are soft and he kisses you with a fervent passion. He gently licks at your lower lip, asking for entrance. You hum in approval and part your lips. His tongue presses into your mouth and dances together with yours - licking, caressing, tasting. 

As he deepens the kiss, you bring your hands to the back of his neck, drawing him closer. At the same time, Han finally brushes his fingers over your panties and you whimper at the contact. 

“Fuck noona, you're so wet,” he groans. “Your panties are soaked. All this for me?” he asks breathlessly. Pushing your panties to the side he swipes a finger through your folds gathering your wetness.

You gasp as he makes contact with your clit and rubs gentle circles. “Yes, Ji!” you moan. “All for you.” 

His lips return to yours as he eases a finger into you. You moan at the intrusion. It's been so long since you had anything but your own fingers inside of you. He slowly pumps it in and out, stroking your walls until he feels you slick up more.

He pulls his lips away from yours. “Do you think you can take another?” 

You pant and roll your hips against his hand in response.

He presses a second finger into you and you throw your head back. As he works his fingers in and out he spreads them apart, slowly scissoring you open. You moan wantonly, your pussy absolutely dripping. 

He increases the speed of his fingers and your pleasure climbs higher and higher. He presses soft kisses down your neck, careful not to leave a mark.

“Ji- Ji-” you pant, barely able to form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence. 

Your walls are fluttering and gripping his fingers. “Your cunt is sucking my fingers back in,” he mumbles in awe, more to himself than you. 

He crooks his fingers seeking that spongy spot deep inside you. When he finds it, he presses into it with each stroke of his fingers until you’re quivering in the chair. “I can feel how close you are. Will you cum for me, noona?” he asks as he presses his thumb to your clit. 

It's the last bit of stimulation you need to tip over the precipice. Your legs lock and quiver as your back arches and you fall apart with a cry. Your pussy pulses and gushes around his fingers as he continues thrusting his fingers at a languid pace, helping you through your high. 

Han has always thought you were gorgeous. But looking at your face while you're at the height of your pleasure?  He doesn't think you've ever been more beautiful. The image of your flushed face with eyes squeezed shut and mouth slack will be seared into his brain for eternity. 

His cock is hard as steel and leaking copious amounts of precum into his boxer briefs. It's truly a wonder he hasn't cum in his pants already. 

As your orgasm fades, he finally withdraws his fingers from your pussy. He sucks them into his mouth. His eyes flutter shut and he makes the sweetest moan. Your essence tastes exquisite - sweet but with a perfect amount of tang. One day, if you let him, he'll drink it straight from the source. He is certain he could spend forever between your thighs, but right now he needs to be inside of you. 

You watch as Jisung withdraws from you. Your slick clings to him and forms a thin strand between his fingers. You watch as he brings his fingers to his mouth and cleans them with his tongue. His eyes flutter shut and he moans. Your empty cunt clenches around nothing when he moans. It is possibly the single hottest thing you’ve witnessed a partner do.

You drop your eyes to where his cock is straining against his pants. You reach out a hand to cup him and he hisses. Heat radiates through his clothing. Emboldened by his reaction you squeeze gently. He whimpers. You can feel how he throbs with each passing heartbeat. 

You undo the button of his jeans and tug the fly open before sliding your hand inside. He's rock hard and leaking. You slide your thumb over his slit, gathering and spreading his copious amount of precum around. Wrapping your fingers around his cock you jerk him a few times, twisting your wrist as you pass over his leaking tip.

He practically growls - grasping your wrist and removing your hand before picking you up. He moves over to the studio’s couch and lays you down gently before climbing on top of you.

He wastes no time undressing you. He connects his lips to yours in a passionate kiss while his hands slide your skirt and panties down your legs. Breaking the kiss briefly, he pulls them free from your feet and lets them fall unceremoniously to the floor.

His lips reconnect to yours while his fingers begin unbuttoning your blouse, pushing it open. Pulling back, he drinks in the sight of your black lace bra and moans appreciatively. He hooks a finger into the front and tugs it down until your breasts spill free.

He attaches his lips to one of your breasts and begins suckling at it, laving the nipple with his tongue until it stiffens into a tight peak. Satisfied, he switches to the other. He catches the nipple with his teeth - biting and tugging. All the while, he pinches and rolls your other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tugging here and there. 

You gasp at the searing bolt of pleasure it sends straight to your pussy. Your neglected clit throbs and your rock your hips seeking friction.

“So responsive, noona,” Ji breathes out. “I bet I could make you cum just like this.”

You whine and shift your hips more. 

Compared to you, Jisung is wearing far too much clothing. With fumbling hands you pull his shirt over his head and it joins your clothes on the floor. His body is soft but toned. You run your fingers appreciatively down the planes of his abdomen. You can feel the muscles tense underneath your touch. 

You push his pants down his thighs and he finishes shucking them off. When he returns to his kneeling position between your thighs, you look up at him through your lashes. He looks gorgeous - godly even. His golden skin glistens with a thin sheen of sweat. His cock stands proud against his abdomen - long with just enough girth. The tip is red and leaking. 

You lick your lips, “Ji-, I need to feel you. I need to feel you inside of me,” you practically beg.

You eagerly watch as he grips the base of his cock, but instead of lining it up with your entrance, he slaps it against your bundle of nerves. You gasp in surprise and then moan as he ruts his hips forward into yours. He slides himself through your slick folds once, twice, thrice. His head catches on your clit each time and you whine, clenching uselessly around empty air. 

“Please, Jisung!” you beg, canting your hips up to meet his.

He takes mercy on you and himself and lines himself up. He sheathes himself inside you, all the way to the hilt. The tip of his cock kisses your cervix and you both moan.

“Shit, noona, you feel so fucking good,” he mumbles. “So tight and wet.”

You slide your arms around his neck and pull him closer as he starts to slowly rock in and out of you. You pull him in for a messy kiss before trailing open-mouthed kisses down his neck. As much as you wish to lick and suck, you refrain - taking care not leave any marks. 

He pulls back from you slightly in order to take a nipple into his mouth again. You arch your back and roll your hips to meet his. His thrusts are strong and steady and you moan every time he bottoms out. “Ji- fuck- ao good- nnngh.”

He releases your nipple from his mouth and extends his arms to full length. You slide your hands down around his biceps and grip tightly as you feel your orgasm building. You tilt your head up to look at him - even in your hazy, lust-filled state you can’t help but acknowledge his good looks. The way his hair sticks to the sweat at his temples. The way his mouth pops open as you clench down around him. 

“I’m close, Jisung!” you pant.

Propping himself with just one arm, Jisung snakes a hand between your bodies to find your clit. His fingers only circle the bundle nerves twice before you’re falling over the edge. 

Your mouth falls open in a silent scream and your back arches. Jisung tries to keep fucking your through your high, but your walls clamp down like a vice and his hips stutter.

“Shit, Noona, you’re too tight,” he gasps. “I’m gonna cum, can I cum inside? Please, please, please,” be begs. 

You have enough wherewithal left to nod and that’s all it takes. He buries himself deep inside and you feel his cock pulse and twitch, filling you with his cum. 

He more or less collapses on top of you, and you giggle and say, “wow, was it that good, Sungie?” 

He nods and lays his head on your chest. You wrap your arms around him and hold him close. 

You stay like that for a few minutes before he pulls out and stands up. “Let’s find you something to clean up with,” he says as he looks around the room. “There should be some takeout napkins around here somewhere…”

You sit up and watch him move around the room. You admire his naked form as he didn’t bother putting on his clothes first. Eventually he exclaims “Aha!” and triumphantly holds up a handful of napkins. You giggle again and he flashes you a lopsided grin. 

You and Jisung clean yourselves up and get dressed before you excuse yourself to the bathroom. In the bathroom you do your business and clean yourself up a little more. As you’re washing your hands, your study reflection in the mirror. 

Your face is flushed, and you can’t stop smiling. You can’t believe you just did that! You had sex! With Han Jisung! One of your idols! You’re not really sure what it means for your future, so all you can do is splash some cold water on your face and the back of your neck and try not to think about it too much. 

You return to the studio and sit next to Jisung who smiles at you kindly and asks, “did you want to listen to the song again?”

You nod and you get about halfway through the song before Chan and Changbin return. 

They look at you and Jisung sitting next to each other and say, “man you really went at it. It reeks of sex in here!”

You face flames red and you look mortified, but before you can even begin to panic or apologize Chan says, “Don’t worry about a thing, Y/N. We encouraged Sungie to make a move, and this doesn’t have to change a thing. You let us worry about the company.”

A/N: This is the first fic I've done based on a request. I hope you like it @kayleefriedchicken, I'm sorry it took so long. I'm really not a fast writer by any means. Also, I don't have a tag list yet, but if you find you've been liking what I've been writing, I would be happy to start one up. Love you all, my dear readers.

[sporadicthingcollection]

Smash or Pass: Part 1/4 (LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader)

Summary: It's the last stop before the Grand Line and you slink away for a quiet evening. The universe, however, decides to clown on you. Sequel to Kiss, Marry, Kill. Pairing: LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader Rating: Semi-explicit. Warnings: Alcohol, death threats, implied threat of sexual assault. Word Count: ~3.1k.

Mama told me what I should know

"Too much candy's gonna rot your soul

If she loves you, let her go'

Cause love only gets you down!"

---

PART 1: In which you are threatened with a knife, a gun, and a good time.

You thought the night would be fine. You thought no one in this bar would bother you. You thought you’d have a little nightcap or three and head back to the ship. You thought you’d have one last night to spend on your own before sharing a small space with five other people for the foreseeable future.

But nothing worked out as you’d hoped.

As soon as you got comfy at a table in the corner, a horde of rough-looking sailors descended and lit up the place. Loud. Rowdy. Obnoxious.

Ugh. At least they’re not Marines. You can lay low. Sink deep in your chair and focus on your drink.

Gazing into the scrying beer glass, you let your mind wander among the swirls. Thoughts ebb and flow.

Like how you need to remember to get more sutures before you cast off. Or how heavy your fingers feel under all the jewelry. How naked your ring fingers look with no adornment. Your family would be nagging you to get married by now. They’d like Sanji.

But they wouldn’t like that stupid, stupid clown.

He’s been on your mind a lot lately. You hate it. But how could he not be? Made you an offer you had to refuse. You tell yourself it wouldn’t have worked out. Where was he last month when you were looking for an escape? You hope you never see him again.

…but if you did see him again, you wouldn’t complain. He’d probably sidle up to you and say something like—

“Well, hello, gorgeous."

Yeah, that's exactly what he would say.

Wait. That was loud. That wasn’t your thoughts. It can’t be. You turn. 

Buggy the Clown grins at you. “Fancy meeting you here, Miss Sawbones."

You dive to the floor as he pulls a knife from his sleeve and throws it at you, sinking up to the handle in the wall. You clamber to your feet, put on your best snarl, and raise your fists.

All eyes are on you and Buggy as you size him up. The clink of chains and scrape of drawn swords sounds all around you. You’re not sure who your allies are, but you’re grateful for the support.

Especially because there’s just as many goons behind Buggy. He looks as surprised as you feel. His stance softens as he glances around. You could get a punch in while his guard is down—

“Hey!”

A gravelly voice splits the very air of the room. Like a child caught in the cookie jar, you freeze. You’re in big trouble.

Buggy freezes too. His shoulders hunch and his eyes go wide. He glances at you, and then to the side. You look in the same direction.

Standing behind the bar is a stout woman in an apron. A cigar dangles from her lips and she wields a wicked glare. Along with a very, very large shotgun.

She points at a big sign hung above the shelves. NO FiTiN IN DaH baR in big red letters on weathered wooden planks.

“‘No fittin’…?'” Buggy mutters.

“If you’re gonna kill each other,” the matron says, “do it outside.”

Due to a sudden lapse in self-preservation, you speak up. “He started it—“

Everyone jumps as she fires into the ceiling. “And I’m ending it. Get along or get out.”

You glance at Buggy. He glances back. You can see the whites of his eyes, even from all the way over here. Slowly, he replaces his knives back into his jacket.

You lower your fists, feeling awful sheepish.

The bar matron nods. “Back to your drinks, all of you,” she says. 

You can’t help but feel a little embarrassed as the crowd disperses. You can read. You’re very literate. How’d you miss that?

“Guess we both need glasses,” Buggy says right next to your ear.

You jump and nearly swing on him again, but you pull the punch. You have no interest in being shot tonight. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

“Getting a drink, same as you. Last stop before the Grand Line.” His voice dips low and he leans in close. “And last chance I’ll likely get to cut you and your little captain’s throats.”

You scowl. “Over my dead body,” you growl.

“That’s the idea.” The matron clears her throat loudly. He flinches and pulls back, but the glare remains. “Once you leave, babe— snnckt!” He draws his finger across his throat and his head rolls off his shoulders and into his arms. You yelp and he cackles as he puts it back.

Well, now you’re in it. This wouldn’t have happened if you stayed on the ship, you dumb lush. You could have just drank with Zoro. Or shot the shit with Usopp while he shot at shit. Or let Sanji hit on you while you sharpened his knives. Literally anything would have been better than this.

But here you are. Time to get yourself out of it. Somehow.

"Well, I’m not going anywhere," you tell Buggy. You sit back down at your table. "So get comfy, clown."

He places his hat on the table and plops into the seat across from you. He snatches up the mug -- your mug -- and takes a long, long, long pull. He tips his head all the way back, throat bobbing with every swallow.

You try and fail to drag your eyes away. You like sharp throats.

When it's drained, he slams it back down on the table. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and how he doesn't smudge his makeup, you'll never know.

“Don’t mind if I do.” He kicks up his boots onto the table. “So what’re we drinkin’? Rum? Ale? Whiskey? Bet you’re a rum kinda gal.”

This is gonna be a night.

---

One bottle in. You glower at him and he smiles back, eyes twinkling in the dim light.

Second bottle. The sun is fully down. He’s started chattering about nothing and everything. Rage roils inside you.

Third bottle. The room slowly spins. He’s still talking. You might leave just so you can strangle him.

Fourth bottle. You flip him the bird. He just giggles.

Fifth bottle. You mix it up a bit and order some shots. The matron brings the glasses and leaves the bottle. 

“Hey, the good shit.” Buggy pours two glasses and raises one. “Cheers.”

Something bubbles up in your chest. The urge to speak. You’re gonna say something stupid. You just know it. And you’re just lubricated enough that it slides through. 

You raise your glass. “Another day, another bender. No retreat, no surrender.” You toss it back and it scorches your throat on its way down.

Your head is so full of cotton that it takes you a moment to notice the laughter. Strong. Sharp. Bellyful. Contagious. You like that laugh. You’d like to hear more of it.

And then you realize it’s coming from Buggy. He has his head tossed back and his eyes scrunched and he’s letting out the most glorious laughter you’ve ever heard.

Before you can be properly disgusted with yourself, he recovers. “I got one.” He pours another pair of shots and slides one to you. “Here’s to our wives and girlfriends. May they never meet.”

Two more shots tossed back and two more glasses slammed on the table. It’s all going right to your head and the more it does, the more you’re enjoying yourself.

“Everyone knows that one,” you say. You pour. “One drink is good, two at the most. Three I’m under the table, four I’m under the host.”

His eyebrows shoot up, lips pursed into a circle. Then he laughs again. “Workin’ blue tonight! Alright!” Two more shots poured. “It ain’t the length, it ain’t the size, it’s how often I can make it rise.”

You weren’t expecting that and you almost spit the shot out. You hack and sputter as it goes down the wrong pipe, but you recover.

Though now you’re thinking about Buggy’s dick. You should probably stop that. You wonder if it’s small and that’s why he is how he is.

“Y’alright, babe?” He takes a pull right from the bottle and spills some on his chin and shirt. He’s sauced too. Small comfort.

One more comes to mind. You reach across and snatch the bottle. “Now he lays me down to screw.” You pour one shot. “I pray this clown knows what to do.” You pour the other. “If he should cum before I end…” You raise yours. “I swear to God I’ll fuck his friend!”

He stares at you a moment, grinless, just long enough for you to worry. And then it returns with a howling cackle. He slams his glass into yours hard enough to slosh some whiskey out and you both shoot it back.

You stare at each other, giggling like hyenas. Some part of you knows this is ridiculous. You’re getting smashed with a guy who tried to kill you and your friends. Who was just ready to kill you. Who is plotting to slit your throat right when you’re not expecting it.

You just laugh harder. What’s your life come to?

You come back down to see him staring at you, head resting on his hand. "You laugh cute."

“Nuh-uh.” You take a swig from the whiskey bottle. “I laugh like a News Coo.”

“News Coos are adorable!” He snatches the bottle back and takes a pull. “We switchin’ back to rum after this one? Or do we wanna get avden— abvench— adventurous?”

A good question. "Let's go nuts."

"My kinda woman!" He slams the table to catch the matron's attention. "Bring us something strong!"

---

Bottle six is gin. Neither of you like it and you both down the whole thing. Bottle seven, you're back to ale.

On eight, you wonder if the throat-cutting threat was a ruse and he's really just going to give you alcohol poisoning.

At least it's a fun way to go.

"So there I am," Buggy says, "looking at the giant hole in the hull where the cannon once was, holding a cannonball like this--" He jumps to his feet, pops his head off, and clutches it to his chest like it weighs fifty pounds. "--when the first mate himself walks in."

Your jaw drops. "What'd you do?"

"Only thing I could do.” He pauses for dramatic effect. “Threw the cannonball at him!"

He lobs his head to you. You squeal in surprise, just barely managing to catch him before you fall out of your chair. The giggles flow from you like water from a spigot.

He grins as you look at him. "Gotcha," he says with a wink.

Maybe it's the booze. Maybe it's the surprise. Your cheeks heat up all the same. You throw the head back and clamber to your feet.

A moment of clarity hits you as you sit back down. "Why are we drinking together? You wanna kill me."

"It's not that weird. Best drinkin' buddies I ever had tried to kill me. When I tried to skip out on the tab, but... y'know." He takes a gulp from his mug. "’Sides, I like you."

"Why?"

“Barber. Cute laugh. Helluva haymaker." Another swig. “You'd do better with me than that group of losers."

"I am not joining your crew."

He watches the ale swirl in his mug, tracing the rim with his fingers. His lips purse and he glances everywhere but your face.

You try to wait for him to speak, but music catches your attention before he can reply. A lively tune, one perfect for dancing. It looks like some of the pirates pulled out instruments and are entertaining their fellows.

"Aw, I love this song," you chirp. “Luffy’s right, we gotta get us a musician already.”

A chain of dancers sails past. You wish you could hop in, but you’ve got two left feet in ill-fitting high heels when you’re sober on a good day.

Buggy watches you watch them. “Go cut a rug. I’ll watch your shit.”

You shake your head a little too hard and the universe spins. “No way. Can’t dance worth a damn.”

“I’ll give you a hand.” His left hand detaches with a little flourish. “Or two.” Off goes the other one. “Or all of me, if you want.”

“Then who’s gonna watch my shit?”

He blinks, then sits back. “Whatever. I gotta piss anyways,” he mutters. He tries to stand, only for his feet to slip out from under him. “Can I get a hand?”

“Alright, but I’m not helping you aim.” You’re less sober than he is, but you’re drunk enough to try. Hauling yourself to your feet, you offer your hand. He takes it, pulling himself upwards.

And then you see the smile on his face. In a burst of coordination, he pulls you into the throng of people.

Oooooh no. No. No no no. He whirls you around, making your head spin. You step on someone’s foot. “I. Cannot. Dance.”

“Can’t?” He lifts you up, moves you to the side, and places you down again. “Or won’t?”

“Both!”

“Bullshit. Hand here.” He plants your hand on his shoulder and places his own on your—

You slap the smile off his face. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make your point. He accepts it.

“Sorry, thought you were shorter,” he mutters. He puts his hand on your waist. Even through his glove, you can feel his warmth. “Stand on my feet.”

“I’m not a child!” You try to pull away, only to collide with a very large man and get knocked back into Buggy. You’re trapped. No way out but to dance.

You know what? Fine. You stand on his feet — making sure to stamp his toes good — and glower at him. “What’s next?”

The smile returns. “Hold on tight, sweetheart.”

You clutch him as tight as you dare. And thank God you do, because soon you’re spinning like a top.

He guides you over and under, side to side, forward and back. And you don’t trip once. Neither of you do. You don’t even feel nauseous. How is he doing this? Is he magic? Is he just that good?

You glance down. Detached from his ankles, his feet support yours as they scoot around. The rest of him glides through the air, guiding you among the other dancers.

It might as well be magic.

"Light off your feet!" you say.

Buggy's chest thrums with a chuckle. Your stomach jumps into your throat as he drops you into a dip just long enough for him to wink at you. "Ain't I clever?"

He pulls you back up and your stomach slides into your boots. The dance continues.

Whirling, twirling, ducking, weaving, bouncing, bobbing… Is this what a dolphin feels like, swirled around by ocean currents? Or a kite, floating on the breeze? Or a princess swept off her feet by a dashing scoundrel?

Somewhere in the recesses of your mind, you ponder what your life has come to. A pirate, dancing on the feet of a clown who tried to kill you and your friends. Who then stole several kisses from you and made your heart flutter and got really drunk with you and now you're a little in lo--

No. Don't say it. If you don't say it, it won't come true. Unless it's the other way around?

It is the other way around. If you say it, you'll jinx it and it won't happen. So you admit it to yourself: you're smitten with this psychotic jackass.

The laughter bubbles forth and it just won't stop. You don't want it to stop. You never want this to stop. This feeling, this dance, this fit of hysterics.

But it must, as all things do. With one final fiddle run, the music stops and everyone applauds. You would join them, but you’re too busy holding onto Buggy for dear life, catching your breath and trying to stop the room from spinning.

“Can’t dance, huh?”

He’s as breathless as you, mouth parted as he takes breaths deep enough to shake his shoulders. Sweat glistens on his face. Glows, even. A few shimmering strands of hair have slipped from his bandanna and stick to his forehead.

What little breath you’ve recovered vanishes from your lungs. Your heart flutters — no, it flaps, like a gull fighting a gust.

You wanna kiss him, but that last shred of self-restraint stops you. “Let’s go again,” you say instead.

His face lights up. “Lemme-- Lemme get rid of this.“

His forearms slip out of his coat and fly to his shoulders, catching his coat as he shrugs out of it. They zip over toward your table. Pretty slick, you admit to yourself.

And then it gets caught on a chair. The arms yank and yank, but it’s snagged good. You giggle.

“C’mon, you piece of…!” He huffs. He pecks your cheek. “Don’t go anywhere.”

He scrambles over to the snag, tripping on every table and chair along the way.

And then you realize he kissed you. Your spine goes rigid.

A tap on your shoulder knocks you out of your stun and you turn. You half-expect it to be one of his hands, but a rather large pirate is there.

“My captain fancies you,” he rumbles. He nods at a smug-looking blond with the worst come-hither face you’ve ever seen. “He would like the pleasure of your company.”

Nnnnno, you think. “Nnnnno,” you say. Buggy has freed his coat and is draining the rest of the bottle you’d abandoned. “Already spoken for.”

The man’s hand engulfs your shoulder and pulls you around. “It wasn’t a request.”

The blond snakes his arm around your trunk, his hand going to your breast. You try to pull away, but the goon’s grip is like iron.

A sharp whistle makes everyone turn. Buggy stands there, arms behind his back. His expression is neutral, but you see his clenched jaw and the bulging tendon in his neck.

“And where are you going with my leading lady?” He’s got the showman voice on. “Our number isn’t over.”

The captain smiles. “I’ll return her once we’ve had our fun,” he says.

He takes a few meandering steps towards them. “Look, gentlemen: we can play this as a tragedy or a comedy. Your choice.”

The goon straightens up. He cracks his knuckles with a chorus of pops. The captain draws a rapier. You’re not sure how well a Chop Chop man handles being stabbed.

Buggy glances between the two of them, nonplussed. “Comedy it is.”

Two disembodied hands slam a bottle over each man’s head. Shards of glass and drops of rum fly everywhere. The pirates’ grips go slack, and you jump away as they hit the floor with dull thuds.

Chaos erupts.

---

⬅⬅⬅ | To the "Curious Courtship" Masterpost | To the Mastahpost | To the Tip Jar | ➡➡➡

[mommopurinn]

"The rain of topaz", Akira and Shoutarou's after story

On the day when Akira and Shoutaro had arranged to go swimming in the sea, the city was suddenly submerged underwater after a heavy rain… This is a sweet early summer story.

I feel like summers used to be hotter in my childhood.

But today’s heat and humidity were still enough to have me wake up and turn on a fan, thinking that it was a close call.

If I continued to sleep like that, I probably would have turned into a desiccated mummy.

I opened the window to try and get the stagnant hot air out.

The sound of a windchime rang from afar, soothing my heart.

Every person spends the summer in their own way.

Akira-kun said that in his childhood, he used to eat the cheapest ice cream from the sweets shop in the morning.

Then he would laze around, watching the shadows grow long as the day went by.

And when the heat was getting unbearable, he would run off to swim in the sea.

    

……The sea.

The sea, you say.

Speaking of that…

 

“I’ve never been to the sea before.”

  

Akira-kun’s hand with chopsticks stopped on the way to his mouth, and his eyes started to sparkle.

And then a deafening shout shook the room.

“Let’s go to the sea then!!!”

Apparently, there’s something about it that makes the heat melt away.

And so, this is how we reach this point of the story.

   

The rain of topaz

   

When I opened my eyes, I saw Akira-kun’s face in front of me.

His lips moved; probably he was dreaming about something fun or tasty.

Instead of a pillow, he had a giant floatie.

Instead of pyjamas, he was wearing a Hawaiian shirt.

And instead of pants, he was wearing swimming trunks…

I did tell him to not do that, but maybe sleeping like this helped him to ward off nightmares.

We had planned to go to the beach today.

But it was still long before dawn, and the streetlights cast a shadow on the room through the curtain of rain.

I turned over in my futon and looked out the window.

I wondered why did I wake up at such an hour.

Probably it was because of the sound of the rain.

“......”

“Shouuu-chaaan… What’s with ya…”

“The rain is so heavy…”

“It’ll stop by the mornin’...”

Akira-kun went back to his happy dream without opening his eyes.

But I was still looking out the window, thinking.

It felt more like a waterfall than just rain.

And sounded more like a hail of bullets than simple water droplets.

…Will it really clear up?

It’s good that the heat will ease off, but I really did want to go to the sea as much as Akira-kun did.

“Shou-chan.”

“Eh?”

“?”

“...Did ya wet yourself?”

“I feel something wet.”

“Then maybe it’s you?”

Dumbfounded, Akira-kun got up and, with a surprisingly firm hand, lifted the futon.

His lower half was soaking wet.

“Whoaaah!!!”

“Eeeeeh…!”

And my butt was too.

And my back, and the pillow.

The whole room was flooded because of this downpour!

   

We rushed from the bedroom. I immediately jumped to the TV, and Akira-kun to his art supplies.

We grabbed everything that we could see and carried it to the second floor in great haste.

During that time the water level had risen from our ankles to our knees and then to our hips.

We were running up and down the stairs so fast that it felt like both the steps and our legs would break.

The room upstairs was getting smaller and smaller; it even started to feel like the floor was sinking.

But the electric fan was still on the first floor…

Just as I was about to get down, I saw Akira-kun stuck in the middle of the stairway.

“A-a-akira-kun, what is that?!”

“When I opened the fusuma, there was this huge tanuki figurine!”

“Ah, …Eh, but why?! Take more important things!”

“But~”

“Get up quickly! The stairway is narrow, so I can’t get down!”

“Well, it’s quite heavy…”

“......”

…Electric fan.

The electric fan that I had just bought was the only thing on my mind.

This tanuki’s face surely was cute, but to me the electric fan was way more important in the summer.

I grabbed tanuki’s face and kneed it in the stomach.

The impact immediately spread throughout its whole body, and it shattered all around us.

Akira-kun’s hands were grasping the air.

Slipping, I rushed to the first floor.

Water level was still rising.

Electric fan, seal, certificate of payment, winter clothes—at this rate, it would be better to bring this whole dresser up.

“!”

Akira-kun supported me from one side.

It looks like he has finally come to his senses.

From then on, the rescue operation proceeded smoothly.

To think that he was right to sleep in his swimming trunks…

   

This rain didn’t feel like a storm, but like someone left the tap running.

The night quietly went away, taking the rain and our worries with it.

“......”

“......”

“......”

“Good mornin’...”

“G-good morning…”

The morning sun was beaming on us, comically surrounded by all our belongings.

Akira-kun made me wear swimming trunks as well.

But the water level didn’t rise up to the second floor.

He approached the window from where the bright light shone.

I got up as well and stood near the dresser, looking over the landscape.

  

“Is this real…?”

   

It looked like a rural landscape.

Although quite an odd one, overgrown with houses.

In just one night, the rain had submerged the whole city underwater.

The sky still hasn't given up, and it rained here and there.

The peak had already passed, but the water wasn’t moving. Seemed like it wasn’t going to drain for some time. 

“We were plannin’ to go to the sea, but instead the sea came to us, huh.”

“......”

“So, what do we do?”

Dejected, Akira-kun scratched the back of his head with his left hand.

He seemed to gradually regain his composure, but my heart was still beating out of my chest.

“......”

I was thinking about my dad.

“Let’s check how Sparrow Nest is doing.”

But when I stepped on the window sill, Akira-kun tugged on it.

“!”

I put on the floatie so as not to sink.

“Ah~, stop, stop!!”

“I need to go.”

“Calm down!”

“But dad and the others…!”

“Shou-chan, you can’t swim!”

Well, yes, but…

“I have a floatie.”

“Are ya goin’ to flutter kick all the way to there…?”

“......Then what do I do?”

The phone was left on the first floor, so I couldn’t call to ask them if they’re safe.

Things that we brought to the second floor were mostly useless.

Only now I had a painful realisation about just how strong yesterday’s rain was.

“I’ll swim there to check!”

“But it’s dangerous!”

“That’s why I’m tellin’ ya to wait here!”

    

“Shoutarou!”

   

I heard the sound of a motor getting closer.

We looked at each other, surprised that someone had called out my name.

“Dad!!”

A pure white boat moored near the window.

Not even wiping his sweat, dad looked me straight in the eyes.

“Shoutarou!”

“!”

“...Help me…!”

I cast off the floatie and jumped into the boat.

‘Help me’.

I've never heard my dad sound so scared since that day.

Landlady, Sally, please, be safe.

The motorboat raced through the eerie waters, carrying our worried selves.

    

“Oh! Shoutarou-saaan!”

“Yaa~an!”

   

Two of them were waving at us from the roof.

Fortunately, it seemed that the Sparrow Nest had escaped the flooding on the second floor as well.

But probably dad made them sit on the roof just in case.

Seeing them smile, I was finally able to feel life coming back to me.

Dad parked the boat next to the staircase and, with steady steps, went to his room.

Coming near it, he signalled with his eyes for me to follow him.

In the dimly lit room, he was preparing something with his back turned to me.

…Still.

Our old room had fully become dad’s lab for inventions.

Dull light coming from the window shone on an assortment of metal parts.

“‘’’That’ll do.”

“?”

“Shoutarou, look at this.”

Some kind of machine with a propeller was lying near his feet.

It was connected to a tube about as thick as an arm, the other end of which disappeared into the window.

A large piece of vinyl was floating on the vast surface of water. 

“!”

…No doubt, it's an escape boat!

“Press this button, please.”

“Okay…!”

I did as I was told, and the propeller started spinning, pumping the air.

Immediately, a tornado started in the room.

The furious roar of the motor sounded like thunder.

Paper, screws, and other things were swirling in the air around me, but still I pushed myself to keep pressing the button.

And, slowly, vinyl started rising.

“Sorry, Shoutarou, I made a machine that only you can operate yet again.”

“Oh, okay!”

“It has become a habit of mine.”

“Don’t worry! It’s fine now, right?”

“Thank you.”

“...What is this?”

“A vinyl raft.”

?

“You can go to the shelter on it.”

“......”

“You will go, right?!”

The airway seemed to be clogged. And right at the moment when I thought that vinyl was going to break…

A giant swan head rose up.

“Thank you.”

“Sure…! But… what is that?!”

“A giant floatie.”

“Didn't you want us to go to the shelter…?!”

“Stop the fan, please.”

Rushedly, I let go of the button.

The sound melted gently into the room, and cicadas’ voices whispered through the silence.

“......”

“D-dad…?”

I watched the swan grow till the end.

And then.

“!”

Someone ran above the ceiling from west to east.

A white skirt fluttered in the wind lightly, obscuring my view for a second.

Landlady landed on the swan's wide back and turned around to look at us, smiling and faintly blushing.

“This is amazing, Tetsurou-san!”

“...?!”

“Sally-san, you come too!”

“Yan’ya…”

“It’s fine! I’m here!”

Sally-san shrank back, kicked herself off the roof with both feet, and jumped into the landlady's arms.

The swan leaned heavily for a moment, but after it gently wrapped itself around the two of them.

Vibrant laughter gently floated across the water.

I was shocked by how content my dad looked.

   

Town speakers had begun to function.

   

>>Announcement for the people of the Setagaya district.<<

   

A beach ball went high up into the sky somewhere.

  

>>Flooding damage has been reported due to localised heavy rain.<<

   

I heard children’s laughter.

    

>>Please, take caution and begin the evacuation from the area…<<

  

“Kyoko-san.”

“Yes?”

“Do you want some shaved ice?”

“Oh, I’d like some with strawberry flavour.”

    

I should have noticed the shaved ice machine on the window sill.

“Shoutarou, which flavour do you…”

By the time my dad turned around to look at me, I was already in the motorboat.

  

No one hears the sirens.

Cicadas still cry, as if nothing happened.

It’s as if the city is leisurely and peacefully enjoying this flood.

   

When I came back home, Akira-kun held a worried expression on his face.

The first thing he did was lean forward from the window and check if nothing happened to me.

“Are Landlady and others okay?!”

“Yes.”

“Did something happen?!”

“No.”

“As if I’d believe that!”

So it is natural for people to be worried. It’s natural, right…?

If someone looks up at you with an expression like that and asks for help.

“I’ll go with ya now!”

“Everyone’s eating shaved ice.”

“Haaa…?”

“There's nothing to be worried about”

“......Ya serious?”

“I am.”

“Er…”

“I am serious.”

“Well, if ya say so then… I’m relieved!”

“Yeah…”

“......”

“......”

So that means…

   

“We can go to the sea then?!”

“Yes. Let’s go to the sea.”

   

Akira-kun put his sunglasses on and grabbed a floatie with one hand.

In less than a second, he changed his clothes and jumped to the boat from the window.

He looked at me with his usual refreshing smile.

Sirens kept repeating the announcement.

But we were just as careless as everyone else.

I slowly started the motor.

   

Then we headed to Soshigaya station, but because of the flood, trains weren’t coming.

“Water’ll probably go down if we go to Seijo.”

“Yeah.”

And so, we boarded the Odakyu line and headed to Shonan.

   

…After all that.

Having calmed down, I started noticing different things about the surrounding landscape.

The Sengawa river had overflowed, and different fish were swimming here and there.

They didn’t seem to be perplexed by the sudden expansion of their world and carried themselves as if they were regular residents of Soshigaya.

But the most curious thing was that both the sky and the water were coloured amber.

“It’s so pretty.”

“It looks like piss.”

It was as if topaz gemstones were dissolved in them.

I touched the water surface, and small white waves spread from my fingers.

Then I raised my hand, closely looked at my index finger, and licked its tip.

“I-it’s sweet.”

“W–w-what’re ya doin’, it’s dirty!”

“It’s just sugared water.”

The smell of cotton candy, usually reserved for temple festivals, drifted through the streets of the city.

Probably it was one of the reasons why everyone was in high spirits.

Nostalgia brought back childhood memories.

I looked up at the sky once again.

“How strange.”

“Yeah…”

Akira-kun folded his arms and spoke in an unnatural and forced voice.

“Akira-kun, I was thinking that…”

  

“Shou-chan!”

   

We were interrupted by a lively voice.

An elegant row boat floated under the sunlight shining through the trees by the side of the road.

Kobayashi-kun was nonchalantly approaching us.

He sat in his dark brown boat almost as if he were straddling a horse. 

Opposite him was Tadashi-kun.

“Good morning, Kobayashi-kun.”

“Oh, good morning! Quite an interesting landscape, don’t you think?”

“How is that rundown house of yours holding?”

After city renovation, mostly rich people lived in Seijo.

So you could even take the submerged landscape for Venice.

“Oi.”

“Everything’s fine. Only the first floor was submerged.”

“Oh, is that so? Well, if you’re having any troubles, you can stay at our place. We have an empty room.”

“Oi!”

“Thank you. That aside, where are you going?””

“We’re just sightseeing. Tadashi asked me.”

“This is Kobayashi from SRB!!! What do you think about this rain?!!”

“!”

“Kagome-san, I would like to ask your opinion on this unusual phenomenon caused by an unbelievable formation of cumulonimbus clouds-”

“W-well, untill next time, Shou-chan! Ha-ha-ha!”

“B-bye-bye.”

“Wait, Kagome-san! And the delinquent-onii-san!!!”

“Ahahaha!!!”

We were told to wait, but it was Kobayashi-kun and Tadashi-kun who were getting further away.

Kobayashi-kun’s laughter disappeared among the trees.

Seems like his son forced him to go mystery-hunting.

“...Did he just pretend that I wasn’t here?”

He really didn’t look at Akira-kun at all.

“Man, he’s annoyin’ as hell.”

“We should go too.”

“Uuu~...”

Looking to the direction where Kobayashi-kun disappeared, Akira-kun grinded his teeth.

I started the motor again, forcibly increasing the distance between us.

    

Water level started to gradually go down.

But still, Seijo station was submerged as well.

We continued going by boat to the next station.

I started getting used to this landscape.

I looked up without much interest. The blue sky peeked through the rifts in the light yellow clouds.

“......”

…Anomaly.

I remembered Tadashi-kun’s words.

Just as he says, this landscape is weird.

The yellow rain with the smell of candy, it felt more like a joke. And the forecast said nothing about any rain at all.

Adults adapt to everything so easily.

Despite experiencing something so unusual, they keep living as if nothing happened.

And by next week, or even by tomorrow, they’ll already forget about this.

   

“You too think it’s kaiju?”

    

I think that Tadashi-kun was trying to imply that.

Akira-kun sat at the boat’s bow, frozen in place like a figurehead and not looking back.

“Who knows.”

“Let’s say there was a cotton candy kaiju.

It was blasted in the sky and became rain… Something like that.”

“Shou-chan, this is kinda…”

“?”

“Well, no one’s buying that kinda story.”

“But it’s not like it’s completely unbelievable.”

“There probably was some explosion at a cotton candy factory. And then it got into the sewers, and that’s where the flood came from.”

“......”

But there’s no cotton candy factory nearby.

And sewer water doesn’t fall from the sky.

Hm.

“Let’s just leave it at that, ‘kay?”

Leave it… at that?

“Let’s stop thinking about it, and just simply live.

Other people probably do just that.”

People do just that…

“Who, exactly?”

“Well, I don’t know that.”

“So maybe there was someone who defeated the cotton candy kaiju?”

“No-no-no, ditch the cotton candy kaiju thought at all!”

“...But I think there was one.”

“Well, he’s now frantically looking into that, together with his son.”

Even though you were treating them like idiots before…

“......”

“Hero’s well, so he’s not sitting home, as they say.”

I don’t really get it.

Akira-kun started saying some heroic things again.

With his large back and his arms folded, he looked like a retired boss of a gang.

…So what he means by ‘leaving things at that’ is that someone’s protecting our peace.

    

“Assan.”

“A… Assan…?”

Akira-kun turned around to look at me, crossing his legs.

“You said you wanted a nickname.”

“A nickname should be more like…! Well, Assan sounds too distant.”

“Acchan.”

“A-a-and that sounds way too close!!”

“Is there even a correct answer?”

“As many as there are tanmenchan waits!”

It’s probably some mahjong slang.

“Well, I’m fine with everything you come up with.”

“Akkun.”

“......”

“I like how Akkun sounds.”

“......”

Suddenly, he got quiet and dropped his head.

Then he looked to the side with a grim face.

His gaze was fixed on a love hotel.

“I just got a ron.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

I sped up the boat.

“I’m looking forward to the sea, Akira-kun.”

“Yeah…”

Even though I didn’t sleep in swimming trunks with a floatie as a pillow, I still was really excited for you to teach me how to swim.

   

We got off the boat at Kitami.

The shoal went on and on forward.

A train was standing at the station.

We ran towards the platform and got onto the train right as the departure bell rang.

“Made it~!”

“Thankfully…”

“Ah, Shou-chan! Where’s your sandal?!”

“!”

One of my feet was bare.

I tripped when running up the stairs, and…

I’m sure it was then when I lost it.

Akira-kun took off his sandal, leaving himself barefoot.

“Put it on.”

It was way too big for my feet.

But he made me wear the left one too.

“I’ll get them dirty.”

“Don’t worry about that. We’re going to the sea after all.”

“We’ll have to transfer trains in Sagamioono.”

“I don’t care about the distance.”

   

The train accelerated, leaving the rain clouds behind.

It was eleven in the morning on a hot summer day.

  

Please, tell me if there are any mistakes or places that sound weird.